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In handsome ELnaraved Pots, - 25 cents eaci?. ^' .d^ Nlstrlc A TXT I. Seou '^cr. /vjnvanA' Royal (j anadian P^ftjjm The only OANAX)LAlT PERFUMES on the English Market. es* Cerise. English Violets. Heliotrope. Jockey Club. Etc. Prairie Flowers. Pond Lily- White Rose. Ylang Ylang. Etc. CCSXABI^ISH^I^ I85«* UORGE. & co:, HATTERS & FURRIERS. 21 ST. LAWRENCE MAIN ST. 21 JBS9ea»li«abedl 156<;. U J. /v. SCRVtYtn, 6 ST. LAWRBNCE ST. (nev Cruig Street.) ^O^SB FURNISHING HARDWARE, Bras8t Vienna and Russian Coffee IVIachinesr UBFET SIEPEBS, CUBTllII SMTHIIS, 3KST K^isiiisy (suTitE^y. BUILDERS' HARDWARE. TOOLS. ETC MAISIE DERRICK BY <( KATHERINE S. MACQUOID AUTHOR OF COSETTE," " MISS EYON OF EYON COURT," ETC- MONTREAL : JOHN LOVFLL & SON, 23 St. Nicholas Street. 1985 I Entered according to Act of Parliament in the year 1892, by John Lovell <5r' Son, tn the office of the Minister of Agriculture and Statistics at Ottawa . :^; TO THE MEMORY OF MY FBIEKD MARGARET VELEY ' ' Go, Love, go — if needs it must be so— Go, as the sun goes down his western way At dying of the day, And all the earth is wrapped In shadows chill and grey. Go, Love, go — if needs it must be so — Go from my longing as the summer goes From many a garden close, And through the branches bare The wind of autumn blows. Go, Love, go — if needs it must be so — Go as the tide, that, sobbing, makes its moan, O'er sand and weedy stone, And yet is drawn perforce Unto the deep unknown. Go, Love, go — if needs it must be so — Summer and sun, and surges of the main, Ye cannot heed my pain ! Go, Love, go — if needs it must be so — But come. Love, come 1 — O Love, come thus again I Come as they come, Love, going as they go ! " MARGARET VELEY. C Q^ERNTON'S SPECIALTIES,^ GOOp lyiORM^ING! ^ HAVE you used Covernton's Celebrated FRAGRANT CARBOLIC TOOTH WASH, For Cleansing and Preserving the Teeth, Hardening the Gums, etc. Highly recommended by the leading Dentists of the City. Price, 25c., 50c. and $1.00 a bottle. COVERNTON'S SYRUP OF WILD CHERRY, For Coughs, Colds, Asthma, Bronchitis, etc. Price 25c. COVERNTON'S AROMATIC BLACKBERRY CARMINATIVE, For Diarrhoea, Cholera Morbus, Dysentery, etc. Price 25c. COVERNTON'S NIPPLE OIL, For Cracked or Sore Nipples. Price 25c. ^ OOOI> EYSNINO! ^ USE COVERNTON'S ALPINE CREAM for Chapped Hands, Sore Lips, Sunburn, Tan, Freckles^ etc A most delightful preparation for the Toilet. Price 25c, C. J. COVERNTON & CO., CORNER OF BLEURY AND DORCHESTER STREETS. Branch, 469 St Lawrence Street MONTREAU MAISIE DERRICK. CHAPTER I. A WALK. There had been mist since early morning. The far-ofif country was completely blotted out, the old gray church tower that rose out of the village at the foot of the hill had also disappeared, only the budding branches of the trees asserted themselves, and showed like unsubstantial phan- toms through the dull grey atmosphere. Now, at two o'clock, the mist was still thick in the vil- lage, but round Yardon Hall, half way up the lane that climbed steeply between the church and the common, it had become scattered. The windows on the north side of the old-fashioned house now gave a clear view of the common and its distant surroundings, but from those on its southern side the church tower was still only an indica- tion, and the tops of the trees appeared without any sign of trunks below. The old house stood some way back from the lane, which with its tall forest trees and hedges newly powdered with a tender green made a pleasant avenue-like approach to the entrance gates and to the long winding walk that led to the house. The gates were on the left of the lane, as one climbed up from the village ; the winding path within them had been newly gravelled, and made a vivid contrast to the closely packed shrubberies that bordered it. These 6 MAISIE DERRICK, were edged with stones half hidden by mossy saxifrage and other small-leaved plants, and behind the green edging primroses and snowdrops and the golden gleam of crocus blossom took away all monotony from the rich brown earth and the mass of evergreen foliage above it. A girl in a grey woollen gown was bending down while she gathered a handful of the snowdrops which had clustered out of sight at the foot of a huge rhododendron. *' How lovely ! " she sighed with enjoyment, then stooped again for a few of the blue-green blades which looked too pure and fresh to have forced their way through the mould. The girl rose up and walked back to the house, looking at the flowers in her hand. Maisie Derrick was dark-eyed and dark-haired, yet there was a likeness between her and the snowdrops. She looked exquisitely fresh and bright ; her brown eyes sparkled, her clear brown skin glowed, and as her lips parted in a smile of content, her perfectly white and even teeth gleamed out between them. Maisie was neither tall nor short ; she was erect and had a fairly good figure. She was pleasant looking, not beautiful, yet there was in her face a special character that attracted notice, and made strangers ask who she was. It was this expres- sion that likened her to the snowdrops. It seemed to say she might be deceived over and over again, but that she would go straight on trusting and believing in every one but herself. She carried the snowdrops into the house and upstairs to a dainty-looking visitor's room facing southward. On the dressing table a tiny basket filled with moss stood waiting for the snowdrops. Maisie put in the delicate blossoms with a deft yet careless touch that made the flowers look as if they were growing in the dark green moss. She gave a look round the room and then came down the stairs and the broad low steps beneath the entrance porch, and crossing the desolate looking spread of gravel in front of the house, she took her MAISIE DERRICK. way along the winding shrubbery path till she reached the entrance to the Ian** Maisie paused at tl ^ -es, looked down to the village, and then with another contented sigh she turned to the left and began to climb the hill to the common. There was not much light and shade on the path for the sun had pierced the mist, and, as the trees were leafless and not thickly planted, it shot down a warm golden glory on the yellow road. Its glare dazzled the eyes of a man who just now came in sight at the top of the hill, where the steep road seemed to touch a distant back- ground of trees. Maisie saw him before he could make out who she was. At first her face showed a sudden delight, and then the bright expression faded. She looked timid and ill at ease. It was curious to note the opposite effects of this meeting in the two faces. The man's doubtful scrutiny of Maisie's advancing figure altered in a second to joyful certainty, his pace quickened, his figure seemed to dilate, and a warm expecting smile lighted up his handsome face and parted his expressive lips. It was plain that these two were more than mere acquaintances, and that the man cared very much for the girl. It also seemed plain that Maisie shrank from showing pleasure at the meeting. " How is Mr. Yardon ? " he said. " Quite well, thank you. Were you coming to see us ? '* Maisie half turned to go back to the Hall. " Yes, I was going there, but why should I stop your walk this bright afternoon ? Mayn't I go acrcss the com- mon with you and then come back and have a chat with the squire ? Ev ^rything looks extra cheerful after that dreary morning mist." ** You must not call my grandfather squire." She smiled as she turned and walked up the hill side by side with Mr. Stanmore. ■iiii •' ' '\ 8 MAISIE DERRICK, yt I He was so tall that he bent down his head to listen while she spoke, and though she had seen him often, Maisie thought what a remarkable face he had. There was something eagle-like in the strong line of his profile, his eyebrows were curved and dark, and his mouth, though wide, was full of rapid changes of expression. A keen flashing rapidity was perhaps the hrst readmg one took from his face, and his light springy step and the careless grace of his movements fitted well with this idea of his character ; but the piercing glance of his dark deeply- set eyes, now turned on Maisie with an ardent glance beneath which hers drooped, indicated a grasp of intellect suited to some great reasoner or scientific discoverer. At present, however, Mr. Luke Stanmore was only on the verge of life. He was five and twenty, a young engineer entrusted with the making a branch line of railway be- tween the village or town of Figgsmarsh, at the bottom of the lane, and the thriving city of Blievedon, which, as all the world knows, is placed in one of the pleasantest parts of Southern England. He had come down to Figgsmarsh a total stranger, and greatly to the surprise of that unselfish community, who took far more trouble about their neighbors' affairs than they ever took in their own, Mr. Stanmore had been at once invited to Yardon Hall, whose owner was considered a misanthrope, even if he were not better suited to be the inmate of a lunatic asylum than to be possessor of the only good house in the neighborhood, always excepting the Manor House in Wentworth Park. There was, of course, the Vicarage at the foot of the hill, but then that did not count, the clergyman and his family were bound, the Figgs- marsh people said, to be friendly and sociable with their parishioners ; l)ut it was a burning shame and an irritation to the Figgsmarsh mind that such a sort of half-way house as Yardon Hall might have proved itself should be ren- MAISIE DERRICK, dered useless for all hospitable purposes by the eccentric habits of its owner. There was no special mystery about Mr. Yardon's exclu- siveness ; every one knew his story. He had been a banker in one of the great northern towns, and had retired early to a beautiful country home near the lakes, tho \,h he kept an interest in the bank. He had been fairly benevolent, though people said his good deeds sprang from his wife, but he was considered proud, reserved and tyrannical. Everything prospered vith him till his wife died. She must have been dearer to her undemonstrative husband than people thought, for he sold off all his property and went abroad as soon as he could. His daughter, an only child, had married before her mother's death, and when Mr. Yardon suddenly came back to England after many years of wandering he found that this daughter, Mrs. Derrick, was in a decline, and that, in spite of the liberal settlement he had made on her at her marriage, she was living in a small house in London, with very limited means. Her marriage had displeased him. She had chosen for herself a Mr. Derrick, an interesting young curate without a penny. It appeared that marriage had developed ambition and extravagant tastes in Mr. Derrick. His father-in-law had provided him with a small country living, and he attended fairly well to his parochial duties ; but the young rector had a passion for orchids, and he also liked to drive and to ride better horses than his neighbors did. His wife was known to be the only daughter of a rich man, so Mr. Derrick was allowed to go on happily with his expensive hobbies. He disliked busi- ness, and had a habit of tearing up bills without looking '»t them, but he had some good qualities. He was a kind and affectionate husband, and his wife did not dream of doubting his judgment on any matter, spiritual or tem- poral. A fall from one of his cherished horses broke 10 MAISIE DERRICK. w I his neck, and then his idolizing wife discovered in the moment of her crushing sorrow that her husband's affairs were in utter confusion, and that he had died overwhelmed with debts. He had not kept any accounts, and his widow was at the mercy of the numerous claimants, who were now as impatient for settlement as they had been slow sending in their accounts. Perhaps the mental shock to poor Mrs. Derrick helped a natural weakness of constitution. She lingered about a year after her father's return, and then left him the sole charge of her only child, his granddaughter Maisie. Mr. Yardon had settled down with this girl of eighteen at Yardon Hall, and although Miss Derrick was by this time twenty, the young engineer was the first person who had been allowed to visit freely at the old house. The Figgsmarsh people said that Mr. Stanmore was also eccentric. He wore his hair longer than other young men did, and had never been seen in fashionably cut clothes, or with a flower in his button-hole. The impres- sion he made on the Figgsmarsh female mind was that of being always in a hurry. Even coming out of church he went along the path with long swinging steps, looking neither to the right or left, with a stray lock of hair over his bright dark eyes, which were seemingly bent on some object far ahead. Every one in Figgsmarsh knew how the acquaintance had begun between the impulsive young man and the over- bearing old one. In fact in Figgsuarsh every one knew everything before it was an hour old, so there could be no doubt that public opinion was rightly informed on this particular subject. There had been a quarrel between Mr. Yardon and Mr. Stanmore. The ex-banker had ac- cused the engineer of trespassing on liis land, which was nearly grazed by the line of the new railway, and Mr. Stanmore had had the best of the dispute, and had so com- MAISIE DERRICK, II pletely proved himself to be in the right, that Mr, Yardon, after being very rude, had called at the young man's lodg- ing, had apologized and had asked him to dinner. This was the Figgsmarsh version of the story j but when the vicar, Mr. Vernon, heard it from his sister he laughed. *' My dear Auricula," he said, *' I don't like to con- tradict you, but I hardly think Mr. Yardon ever made an apology to any one." There was no doubt, however, that the contradictory old man liked Luke Stanmore. At their first meeting the young fellow's frank easy manner had taken his fancy, and now at the end of three months they were fii:m friends. " You expect Miss Saway to-day I think," Mr. Stan- more said, as he and Maisie went on to the breezy common. A lark was singing high above them, and the sunshine was gilding the faded bent as well as the fresh green blades of grass that tried to blot it out of sight. Maisie looked up smiling. " Yes, I can hardly say how much I am looking for- ward to her visit. She is such a dear old frienu, there is no one like her." " You like her better than Miss Vernon then " Maisie looked uncomfortable. She gave a swift upward glance of inquiry, and discovered that Mr. Stanmore had an amused smile on his lips. " You see^ it is so different," she said, as if she were excusing herself. *' I have known Miss Saway ever since I was a child, and she knew my mother before that, and Miss Vernon has not been here a year yet. She did not come as soon as her brother did." She paused, with a look of discontent. He did not speak, and she went on more quickly : " It is better to be honest " — she had the truthful look in her eyes that made her so attractive ; ** if I had known Miss Vernon much longer, I do not think we should la MAisiE derrick: have found much sympathy. She is modem and accus- tomed to society, and I am " — she hesitated — " well, I am shy and old-fashioned. It is not likely Miss Vernon could care much for me. I am sadly behind the rest of the world." She laughed as she spoke, but there was a timid look of appeal in her eyes. Mr. Stanmore longed to say " You darling," but he had determined not to be premature, and he also knew by instinct that unless he wished to give serious offence to the old master of the Hall, he must not make love to his granddaughter until he had asked his leave to do so. " All the better," he said, and his look soothed the girl's doubting heart. It was delightful to have such an assurance that this new friend really sympathized with her. He went on swishing rather nervously at a bare red blackberry arm that was peeping out of the furze. " I wonder whether your friend will care to inspect the new line. Can she walk as far as Beadon Hill, do you think ? I could explain its course to you both if she could, but perhaps she would be- bored." He said this with so little of his usual ease that Maisie was surprised. She wondered why Mr. Stanmore, who never seemed to cfue for the opinion of any one, should be anxious to please Miss Savvay. " I think she would like it very much," she answered simply, and her calm direct words set him at ease while she went on : *' Miss Savvay takes an especial interest in this country. She is Captain Wentworth's aunt, you know." " I have been told so." He looked grave again. " May I ask if Captain Wentworth is a friend of yours ? " Maisie laughed out at this question. " I have never seen him. Captain Wentworth has been away for years. He came back once or twice, but Miss Savvay says that for many years he has stayed on in India. The beautiful old house has been shut up, and is much the MAISIE DERRICK, «3 worse for it, I believe. In her last letter, Miss Savvay says her nephew is coming home perhaps." Stanmore turned impatiently and looked towards the lane. ** I will call for you to-morrow afternoon, then," he said, ** or shall I meet you and Miss Savvay on Beadon Hill ? " " I think that will be best," Maisie said. They had left the common and were crossing the road that separated it from the lane. A passing cloud made it seem as if they were entering into shadow as they went down the road between the trees. '* There is my grandfather at the gate," the girl said. Luke raised his hat, but Mr. Yardon did not seem to see him. Maisie felt in a moment dull and constrained. She was once more the stiff shy creature she felt herself to be when she was alone with Mr. Yardon. H MAISIE DERRICK, CHAPTER II. maisie's grandfather. Once upon a time a new keeper was engaged to attend on the lions and tigers of a zoological garden. The new keeper had first-rate testimonials, and his care and punc- tual attendance on the animals were warmly praised by the head keeper when he made his rounds. The new attend- ant was intelligent too, and had detected a weakness hitherto unsuspected in the eye of a valuable lioness. For three weeks the new man was in high favor. Then there came a change — not in his care or attention to his duties, these were as unremitting as ever ; the change was in the beasts themselves. They became sulky and irritable, the pet lioness actually refused her food and pined at the back of her den, while the lions and the tigers growled and snarled till the new keeper felt more or less nervous of approaching them. This was not all. A young tigress, who had been hitherto graceful and docile with the caressing ways of a petted domestic cat,, became suddenly dull and lethargic. She moved about her den in the most commonplace manner, only rousing from her apathy to growl now and then at her new attendant, with whom she had at first been affectionate and full of play. It was soon rumored that the new attend- ant wished to give up his post ; he complained that the beasts were bad-temped, and his life was not safe with them, he said. This accusation irritated his superiors, and the other keepers asserted that, on the contrary, the beasts were remarkably docile and good-tempered, and the man was MAISIE DERRICK. n reminded that he had himself expressed this opinion at the beginning of his service. While the head keeper sat lost in perplexity at this sudden change in the behavior of his favorites, one of the hangers-on of the gardens asked leave to speak to him. " Well," the head keeper said gruffly, " what's your busi- ness ? *' " Well, sir," said the man. " I guess you wants to know the reason for all this snarling and growling, don't you ? '» A sudden idea came to ** Elmhats," the keeper, and he felt sure that some underhand plot against the welfare of the beasts was about to be revealed to him. *' It lies in a nutshell," the man went on. "Them beasts — " he jerked his thumb over his shoulder to indicate their dens — " is dull, that's the long and short of it." " Dull ? " " Yrjs, sir, dull. They walks on four legs, but what then ? They're uncommon like ourselves, 'cept they eats their joints raw and we takes ours cooked. Call yourself to mind, sir, and you'll see there's nothink more trying than dullness to them as can't go about to amuse theyselves. Why that there Peter as used to tend 'em as you discharged because he was too fond of liquor, you should just hev hearkened to Peter when he was a-sweeping out the lioness — I mean Susan, sir, the savage one. " Sukey," says he, " my old gal Sukey. Ain't she a beauty now, eh Sukey lass ? Was she a purring puss then and a doodling old darling of a Suke.'' Bless you, sir, he'd go on ten minutes at a time with such a string of nonsense talk as you never hearkened to. Just the same with the lions and the tigers too, the beasts was never tired of listening to the chap, he spoke that pleasant to them. As for the little tigress, the saucy beauty he called her, bless you, sir, I've seen her roll about on her back and let him tickle her while she listened to his coaxing ways ; he just knew how to amuse them dumb brutes. That ! ' x6 MAISIE DERRICK, was the whole moral of it, and in course they showed their best sides to him. Well, sir, you give Peter the sack, and then comes this yere sober correct party, and he talks to 'em just as if the critters went on two legs ; what talk he did, he ain't got much of a tongue ; precious dumb chap all round — he never wastes time in play, not he. He gruinbled at the poor beasts for growling and snarl- ing ; bless you, sir, they was only swearin' at the dullness.'* " Why wasn't I told this before Nash gave notice, perhaps he might still learn to do better with them." The answer came with great contempt — ** You know better than that, sir, I take it. Feelings for dumb brutes or for any think else can't be taught, sir. There's them as can't rest till they see those they lives with happy and bright like, an' there's others as only wants to be pleased theirselves." Now the influence of Mr. Yardon's atmosphere on Maisie Derrick had been nearly related to that exercised by the silent keeper on the great caravansary. The warm-hearted sensitive girl could not snarl or growl, but she drooped and pined for the affection which had been lavished on her by her father and mother, by Miss Savvay, and by every one who had hitherto known her. Maisie had always been shy and retiring, but she possessed a rare ^Sx. — the faculty of attracting love without seeking it. Before her grandfather came back to England, Maisie had begun to study in order to be able to teach. Mrs. Derrick had become a complete invalid, and the girl longed for power to increase her mother's comforts. She had been helped in this purpose by the old friend who was coming to-day to Yardon — Miss Savvay. It was her friend's first visit since Maisie had been claimed by her grandfather, and the girl had been counting the hours to her arrival, she so hungered for love and kindness. MAISIE DERRICK, t7 'if^ Mr. Yardon seldom blamed his granddaughter ; but he was utterly indifferent to her presence or her absence. Maisie had remarked that he never looked at her. She did not know that she owed this avoidance to her likeness to her father. This avoidance and Mr. Yardon's sternly re- pressive manner had week by week frozen up the girl's frank nature, and had increased her shyness. She was grow- ing nervous and self-conscious, and the old man was deeply vexed by her silence and her timid manner towards him. She blushed now as she came up to the gate, and saw how stern he looked. It was as if she had read his thoughts and heard him say : " Conceited fool, always thinking about herself and what I think of her. I must get rid of her, that's the long and short of it. The very sight of her puts me out of temper." Mr. Luke Stanmore, who lived too much in the open air, and who was too full of health and good spirits to be troubled with irritable nerves, did not feel the mute anta- gonism of his companions. " Why did you not come and meet us, squire ? " he said ; *• it was delightful on the common." Mr. Yardon looked still more unpleasant. " Captain Wentworth is the squire here," he said, '* pray do not mis- apply titles, Stanmore. I have no wish to defraud Captain Wentworth of anything he really possesses. Well, I won't detain you ; you no doubt wish to prolong your walk." He nodded and seemed not to see Mr. Stanmore's out- stretched hand, but turned his back on the gate when. Maisie had passed into the shrubbery walk. Mr. Yardon did not try to overtake the girl, and they^ walked back to tlie house in silence. The delicious flutter that had darkened Maisie's eyes and made them liquid witn happiness was weighed down by her wonder at this change in her grandfather. " He has always asked Mr. Stanmore to come in ; he did 2 18 MAISIE DERRICK, not even shake hands with him to-day. What can have happened ? " Maisie Iiad an uneasy consciousness that she was the cause of Mr. Yardon's churlish behavior. It was a relief that, being at least two yards behind her, he could not see her guilty looks. The hall was so large that her grandfather had come in before she had time to reach the foot of the staircase. ** I want you in my study," he said. His voice sounded rougher than usual. Maisie drew a deep breath, and felt as if she were going to have a tooth out. Mr. Yardon went into a room on the right of the hall, and seated himself behind a writing table that faced the door by which Maisie had to enter. He also faced the fireplace, and at his back were two windows, so that, while he sat in comparative shadow, the light fell full on the girl's face as she came in and stood facing him. There was a likeness between them of expression rather than of feature. In both faces was the same look of truth and yet of reserve. There was a likeness which should have made them think in unison, and yet an indication of qualities which would make confidence difficult between them unless there was love to bring it forth. As their eyes met Maisie saw a hard stern look of dislike, and she saw rightly. At that moment Mr. Yardon almost hated her. She had come in the way of all his plans and future projects ; she even interfered with his solitary amuse- ment — a chat with Mr. Stanmore. " Confound her," he thought, ** the fellow comes to see her now, not me, and I won't play second fiddle in my own house." . . " Do you want me, grandfather ? " Maisie had become so shy under his stern eyes that one shoulder insensibly rose higher than its fellow. ** Yes," he said angrily. ** Can't you stand straight, girl ? Look here — I do not want Mr. Stanmore to be invited by MAISIE DERRICK, 19 any one but myself, Maisie. Will you remember this, if you please ? " Maisie colored, hesitated, and then said in a shy voice, " I did not ask him, grandfather." ** That is a mere excuse. If girls go out to meet young men, the men consider themselves invited. I am not blaming Stanmore — the young fellow only did what was natural — I blame you. You should keep out of his way. He — he does not care for you, do you understand ? " He had been rude, but never so rude as this, and Maisie's spirit rose at the taunt. " It does not signify about that." She had raised her head and was looking straight at him, and Mr. Yardon saw how very bright her eyes were and how dark they looked. " I met Mr. Stanmore, but he was coming here to ask Miss Savvay and me to come and see the new line to-morrow. He knows Miss Savvay a little." Mr. Yardon gave a grunt, but he did not answer. He took up a newspaper, and Maisie felt that she was dismissed. i I! flO MAJSIE DERRICK, CHAPTER III. LUKE STANMORE MAKES UP HIS MIND. Luke Stanmore walked down the hill to his lodging in the village. He was half affronted and yet amused by Mr. Yardon's uncourteous behavior. " He sees what I think of his granddaughter, and he does not like it. Well, he'll have to like it." He smiled, and then went on thinking of Maisie. She was still a puzzle to him, for he did not guess the extent of her shyness. She was sometimes so bright and ani- mated, and then she would become as she had just now, limp and unable to join in the talk. While Mr. Stanmore pondered this contradiction, it occurred to him that Maisie only had this drooping aspect in Mr. Yardon's presence. The thought jarred him. He had keen percep- tion when he gave it fair play, but he was apt to judge rapidly and hastily at the outset. He had decided that Mr. Yardon was excellent, a rough outside with a warm heart, and now he could not lay the blame at once on him. Surely, he argued, her grand- father must know Maisie better than he did, and there was perhaps a reason for his silence towards her ; she per- haps did not appreciate the generous heart that lay under such a prickly outside. Well, well, if matters went as he wished, Mr. Stanmore thought he would soon set all right between Maisie and her grandfather. It had not occurred to this new-comer — he had been only a few months in Figgsmarsh — to make inquiry about the extent of Mr. Yardon's popularity. He had been flattered by the old man's liking for himself, and he was therefore MAISIE DERRICK, ai inclined to judge him favorably. Had his landlady been less garrulous, perhaps, Mr. Stanmore might have questioned her ; but the woman had a torrent of words ready whenever he saw her, and although his rooms were nicely furnished and well kept, and his meals were appe- tizing, he often meditated a change of abode. "^he calm repose of Maisie's manner was yet more de- lightful to him as an effect of contrast ; Mrs. Grieg's dis- jointed words clattered one against another like bits of broken china. He looked forward on his right when he reached the end of the steeply descending lane, and he felt a sort of disgust when he saw his landlady's trim little figure stand- ing in her doorway across the road. Mrs. Grieg did not wear a cap, and thus showed the pointed shape of her small head with its shining braids of brown hair — still brown though she was nearly fifty. Something in the attitude, her skinny yellow face and throat, and her bright bead-like eyes, reminded Stanmore of a tortoise, as she craned her head forward at the sound of wheels on the newly mended road tliat led to the rail- way station and formed a sort of continuation of Rectory Lane on the further side of the High Street of Figgs- marsh. A fly with luggage outside it was a rare event, and Mrs. Grieg stared at the vehicle as it came in sight. A lady looked out of the fly window and nodded, and Mr. Stan- more raised his hat in answer to this greeting. Mrs. Grieg rubbed her lean hands, a momentary gleam showed in her expressionless eyes. " I shall know who it is before any one else does," she said to herself, '* though I'd bet it was a visitor for the Hall if 'twern't too unlikely." She admired her lodger's tall figure as he came down the lane with an easy step that became still easier after he had returned the bow of the lady in the fly. He sighed 33 MAISIE DERRICK, with a sense of relief; he felt sure that his old acquaintance would help him to see more of Maisie. "Good-evening, sir." Mrs. Grieg's cackling voice roused him from this pleasant prospect. " Was that a friend of yours, sir ? We don't often see a strange lady at Figgs- marsh." Mr. Stanmore smiled. '* I believe that lady was born at the Manor House," he said. " You don't say so, sir. I didn't know as Captain Went- worth had any ladies in his family." Then she went on glibly, ** I beg pardon, sir, but you'll remember I said I came from Hoxter, not being in noways a Figgsmarsh woman, save always and except so far as being the wife of a Figgsmarsh man, and you see, sir, the property have come to Captain Wentworth from his grandmother years ago, he being a minor when old Mrs. Savvay died. There's those that says the old lady might have left it in bet- ter hands." Stanmore frowned, and she went on at double quick pace, feeling that her chance was a short one. " There's no secret, sir, about the captain's doings, he just stays away and takes all out of the place he can, don't do nothing for no one, and they do say " But Mr. Stanmore was already half-way upstairs, and had not heard half of Mrs. Grieg's information. Some of her words, however, clung to him, and roused a disturbance in his reflections on Maisie Derrick. When he was not thinking of his work, it must be said that Mr. Stanmore's thoughts had taken a habit of travel- ling in one direction only. Luke Stanmore was not vain. Though he felt hopeful that she cared for him, he did not think that Maisie was won ; but the singular truth of her nature revealed itself easily in spite of her reserve, and the young man had felt sure while he talked to her that she was heart-free. She might be won, but he did not think she would be won easily. Till to-day he had seemed MAISIE DERRICK, 23 to have many chances in his favor. Mr. Yardon's friend- ship and the absence of visitors at the Hall gave him a clear field, for, as yet, he had not met a fellow guest there. The rector had dined once. Though he had talked to Maisie, Mr. Vernon was evidently not on intimate terms with his host. Luke Stanmore had therefore felt that his success depended on his own power of winning Maisie's love. He was so intensely happy in these brief meetings with her, that he had been willing to prolong this delightful time. To-day he had felt almost sure that the sight of him had called so deep a glow into the girl's sweet eyes. Till her manner suddenly changed at the gate, he had begun to hope that the prize of her love was won. This check had set him thinking on his way down the lane whether he was wise in delaying. Maisie might expect him to speak. She might feel that he exposed her to re- mark by these meetings, which had become frequent during the last fortnight ; she might even at this moment be con- sidering him a mere trifler. At this point Mr. Stanmore had caught sight of the lady in the fly, and he had seen in her a way of deliverance. Mrs. Grieg's torrent of talk, that is the portion of it to which he had listened, had, however, set a blot on the bright vision that succeeded his bow to Miss Savvay. Captain Wentworth was coming home, was he ? Captain Wentworth being poor, and in debt besides, would want to marry a girl who had some money, and yet who was accustomed to live in a quiet unostentatious way. He would certainly be charmed with Maisie, and, whether he loved her or not, he would see the prudence of secur- ing such a wife. This evening, while he smoked, the wreaths that blotted out the corners of his room from Mr. Stan- more's eyes no longer showed Maisie's bright face among them. There came instead a vision of Captain Went- 34 MAJSIE DERRICK, n worth. He was no doubt fascinating, girls often found army men fascinating because these men believed in them- selves. Well, if Maisie preferred Captain Wentworth to himself it would be better that she should marry him. But it was one thing to say this and another to accept it. The vision of Captain Wentworth colored by Mrs. Grieg's comments was not that of a man likely to make a good husband. He had doubtless seen a good deal of life, and had no first affection to give to any one. It was quite pos- sible that this blasi man of the world might be capable of marrying Maisie for her money. Luke Stanmore felt guiltless on this point ; he thought it better that a girl should have a small income, but it was not necessary. His own father and mother had died early, but they had left enough to provide for this only child's education and start in life. Luke Stanmore's own ability and determination, helped by a certain charm of manner which had made him friends early in life, had done the rest. He felt that he was now at six-and-twenty in a position to marry. Luke Stanmore's creed was that if a man seeks for money in marrying, he must give up some more desirable quality. No man, he argued, has a right to expect perfection. He cannot hope for a wife who is amiable and rich as well as beautiful and talented. He had not a good opinion of his own merits, and therefore thought he had no right to ex- pect as much as some men might. He told himself that if he could win Maisie's love he should be truly happy, and he began to see that he had better not lose time, and thus give opportunity to some one else to take it from him. He once more leaned back and called up Maisie's look as she met him in the lane. The sweet dark eyes had been bright with what he had thought was love. Mr. Stanmore had never been able to decide on the C9lor of Maisie's eyes, MAISIE DERRICK. 2S they seemed to vary in varying degrees of light ; he only knew that they were dark and yet full of color as they looked at him under the rebellious cluster of brown wavy hair that the wind scattered over her broad forehead. Either the rich color of her hair, or her clear brown skin, or both together, always reminded him of bright autumn coloring a bunch of ripe nuts. Scarlet berries, the golden bronze of the brake, brilliant bilberry leaves and gleams of golden lichen seemed suited to Maisie, only that the fresh daintiness that characterized her gave this girl a sparkle especially her own, a sparkle more akin to spring. *' There is no other girl in this world for me," Mr. Stan- more said, and stretching out his hand he refilled his pipe and thought again. When he went to bed he had determined that although he might not find the opportunity he sought to-morrow, yet he could make Maisie clearly understand that he was in earnest. M # m 26 MAISm DERRICK, CHAPTER IV. wa4 ove ACROSS THE CHANNEL. Across the Channel and some way farther south, instead of mist and leafless trees, the meadows were sprinkled with white narcissus blossoms and yellow asphodel, the green slopes were gay with many colored lilies, and the out-of-the-way nooks were fragrant with pale violets and delicate primulas. A belt of flowers of all hues girdled in the little town of Sentis, and the English travellers who passed through it on their way to the Riviera mar- velled at the lavish beauty, and sometimes left their car- riages and helped themselves to nosegays. At the farther end of Sentis, just outside the town, tliere is a point where three valleys open on to the road, revealing far-off moun- tains ; at the end of one valley is a shining glacier that seems to touch the sky. The ground slopes away from the road on either side and shows tempting hollows gay with flowers, and paths leading in various ways to the wooded valleys. On the left of the road opposite the valleys, beside one of the flowery hollows, there stood a cottage, built partly of stone and partly of logs. It had an air of comfort in the absence of litter outside. There were four small windows, with green shutter blinds ; these were now closed to exclude the great heat of the sun. A carriage full of travellers came along the road, dis- turbing the stillness of the place. It went at a rapid rate, as if the travellers it carried hoped to escape the burning sunshine by mere speed. They had evidently been gather- ing flowers, for a huge basket beside one of the occupants MAISIh. DERRICK. 27 was laden with blossoms, and she held a white umbrella over the fading blooms. The travellers did not notice the cottage as they went rapidly by, but .from behind the green sun shutters two bright, dark eyes laughed merrily as the carriage passed by. The girl who laughed was alone, a lithe, slender creature with a small head j a profusion of rich, fair hair fell loosely over her shoulders, for she had been brushing it when the noise of the carriage-wheels drew her to the window. She stood watching till the travellers vanished into the valley on the left, and her large dark eyes were half-closed, her rich, pouting lips were parted in laughter, and her chin was supported between her thumb and fingers. She looked like a faun, or some mischievous sprite, capable of casting a spell over the unconscious travellers who had been so near her a while ago. " Well," she said to herself, " those are English people. I feel that I shall not like the English ; they take so much trouble always. I • would not trouble about wretched weeds if I had the good fortune to ride in a carriage." She closed her eyes, showing long brown eyelashes rest- ing on her cheeks. " Ah ! perhaps I shall have a carriage of my own some day." She opened her eyes, and there was a look of gladness in them, as if they had just seen something pleasant. " I am curious," her thoughts went on, " it seems like the play-acting I saw at Cannes years ago, so many things have happened to me since mother died. Poor mother, she was always grumbling because life was dull. She would have enjoyed getting so many letters as I have had this week, and she would have liked to see Mr. Ray." She put down the brush and began skillfully to twist her soft, abundant hair into a thick rope. She rolled this round and round the back of her head, her long fingers setting here a comb and there a pin, till her golden head- M 28 MAISIE DERRICK, i N i I dress seemed created by magic — a stxioolh contrast to the ruffled waves of hair above her fair forehead. If Drusilla Lescure had lived in a northern climate she would have had a dazzlingly fair skin ; but although her mother had always been watchful over the girl's beauty, she had not been able to keep Drusilla completely out of the sunshine, and there was a tinge of gold on her face which, perhaps, added to its fascination, and added to the glow of her dark eyes. The girl put away her brush and comb, and pulled off the cotton jacket over which she had brushed her hair. She had a slender, graceful figure, dressed simply in black soft stuff. Her full, round throat looked white against this, but her hands did not follow suit ; they were golden brown against tlio cuffs of her mourning gown. Drusilla took up a cracked hand-minor and looked at her- self; she made a grimace and her brown eyebrows met in a frown. " I would not wear black if I were going to stay here ; it makes me look ordinary. If it was 'not that I fear to shock the Englishman, I would have pui on my blue frock to-day." She stopped and opened a drawer of the old gilt-handled armoire near her bed. A glow of blue like that of wild hyacinths in a copse showed in the opening. Drusilla touched the stuff lovingly and sighed. She closed. the drawer and shook her head. " No, I am sure the English are all formalists, and if this agent saw me in a col- ored frock, he would be sure to write to his employer that I was wanting in respect to my mother. Poor mother ! she was often cross, but I wish she was here to advise me. She was very wise ; she used to say girls must be silent — not too ready to talk ; but then it was easy for mother to behave in the best way. She knew life ; she had been among gentlemen and ladies ; she knew what to say and what to do. Why did she hate everybody I wonder, and shut herself up here alone with me ? I don't believe any MAISIE DERRICK. 29 girl was ever so shut up as I have been. I wonder if the Englishman knows more about me than I know about myself." She went to the window and looked out. At some dis- tance a figure was coming along the white road, and at the first glance Drusilla felt sure it was the Englishman. Drusilla considered that she had been deprived of the pleasures that other girls had. She had never been allowed to join in village y< 1 1 may say so, of good judgment." He paused and looked at her intently. " I want you to help me if you will be so good." Miss Savvay was already deeply interested in watching the course of Maisie's love story. Mr. Stanniore's manner had convinced her that he would not be contented till he knew his fate, and when Mr. Yardon said this she felt a sudden fear that the contradictary old man intended to put obstacles in the way of the young people. " I hesitate to begin," he went on, " because what I have to say must sound to you so very inhospitable, but the fact is that I am very much worried. I received a letter two days ago which told me to expect a visitor, a lady, a stranger to me and also a foreigner." " And you wish me to give up my room to this visitor ? Why did you not write and put me off at once ? " She smiled cheerfully at him. " I am so sorry you have made a trouble of it. I am ready to go at once." There was no change in Mr. Yardon's grave face, he only put out his hand to show her that she had not reached his meaning. "You are very kind, but that I take as a matter of course from Miss Savvay. But, madam, allow me to say it was necessary that you should come here, for two reasonf . I have to place Maisie under your charge, and I have also to tell you why I must, for the present, send her away from Yardon." " Send Maisie away ! " Miss Savvay checked herself. She saw Mr. Yardon's lip curl at her v.ant of calm. " I am obliged to have this visitor here — for a time — I do not know how long — circumstances will decide that point — but until I am sure that I can have this — this person and 46 MAISIE DERRICK. V i Maisie in the house together, I wish my granddaughter to be in safe keeping. I can only think of you, madam," he bowed, '* to whom I can entrust Maisie. She is young. She is supposed, whether rightfully or wrongfully, to have expectations. She would be thought a catch by some designing people, I do not choose to send her to school. Will you give me this help ? " He stopped and looked at her. Then, before Miss Savvay could answer, he went on : " Perhaps you will be good enough to take Maisie away to-morrow morning, and to keep her with you till I ask you both to come back to Yardon." He got up from his ciiair and bowed. After a pause Miss Savvay said coldly, " Very well. I will do as you ask." '* Thank you. The carriage will take you to the station at nine o'clock." He went out at the door by which he had come in, and Miss Savvay heard him fasten the bolt. " What a tyrannical old boor," she thought. " He must be doubtful whether this stranger is a fit companion for Maisie. ^Maisie could have come to me. It is most extra- ordinary behavior. Poor Maisie ! " The harsh pirating of the bolt announced another visit from Mr. Yardon. " I beg your pardon, madam " — he spoke as if he had been listening to her thoughts — " but I think I will get you to announce this arrangement to Maisie. She is so gauche and so shy with me that I should not find it easy to explain myself. You will perhaps say to her that a matter of business makes it necessary that she should go away with you till I send for her." He was going away again, but Miss Savvay had recovered from her previous surprise. " You must excuse me," she said, " but I prefer that you should tell Maisie yourself. She is of age, remember^ ki th MA IS IE DERRICK. 47 I and I am not her guardian, I have no authority over her." He gave her a cynical look. " You have a gi cater power than authority. You must know that a woman will yield to influence far more easily than she will to reason, and if you had known Lancelot Derrick, Miss Savvay, you would not expect his daughter to listen to simple reason." " I call that a prejudice. It surprises me that you should take it for granted that a child is bound to inherit its father's faults. Why should not Maisie resemble her mother ? I see a great personal likeness in her to that portrait." Mr. Yardon's lower lip was pushed up above its fellow. " You must be uncommonly fond of Maisie, madam. My daughter, Mrs. Derrick was a lovely young woman. She might have married any one she pleased — and she married that poor creature." ** She married a clergyman, and he was well-connected and well-bred." Mr. Yardon snapped his fingers, contradiction always sent away his self-control. *' He was my son-in-law, madam, so I suppose I should know his points. Derrick never tried to please me or any one but himself. He was a poor creature, madam. If my unfortunate child had made a better choice, she might have been alive now. Well, madam, you will confer an obligation on me if you will explain my wishes to Maisie. She will thank you for doing it," he added significantly. ** You will that I shall do it more pleasantly. Perhaps so." Miss Savvay spoke dryly. " Very well, I will speak to Maisie." " Yes," she said to herself when Mr. Yardon had gone, ** I begin to understand the change in Maisie, and I am not sorry to take her away from that old tyrant. The girl will get back her courage and her spirits when she is away from him, and a short separation will make Mr. I! :i^ i \\ \ !| 48 MAISIE DERRICK, Stanmore more ardent and anxious to take her away alto- gether." Miss Savvay could not go back to the Vicar of Wake- field — she sat thinking. 1 1 seemed to her that if Maisie could meet Mr. Stanmore before thev left Yardon the matter would probably be settled, " and then/' Miss Savvay nodded complacently, " if the young people are engaged there will be nothing to hinder me from asking Mr. Stanmore to come over to Nappa." Considering that Miss Savvay lacked any personal ex- perience in the conduct of a courtship, it must be said that s'7e showed some generalship in her plans. *ohe met Maisie just before luncheon and settled about the walk. It seemed to her that it was better to defer giving Mr. Yardon's message till they were safely out of the house. Miss Savvay had changed her opinion of Maisie's grandfather ; she did not like him, but she shrank from him with more fear than dislike. When she recalled the determined look in his face this morning she felt secretly glad that she was free to take Maisie away. She remem- bered that Mr. Yardon had lived abroad for many years, and in her opinion no man who exiled himself from his own country for so long a period ever came back exactly as he went away. He might perhaps be capable of locking Maisie in her room if she did not obey his wishes. There is no saying how far this warm-hearted woman might have allowed her imagination to lead her. She was so sure to carry both liking and disliking beyond a reason- able limit. Miss Savvay's swans were apt to prove geese, and her tiger often dwindled down to a much more tameable creature. And yet, making all due allowance for the power of Miss Savvay's imagination, there seemed to be machinery at work on that afternoon which kept Maisie within the garden gateu. Mr. Vernon and his sister, Miss Auricula, came up from the rectory to call on Mr. Yardon'p visitor. Miss MAISIE DERRICK. 49 it Savvay saw plainly that the young vicar admired Maisie, and that Miss Auricula was disposed to patronize until she learned that Miss Savvay belonged to the Manor Hous6 family. Then Miss Vernon became appropriately gushing, and turning her back on Maisie devoted herself to the visitor. At last the brother and sister went away, and then Mr. Yardon asked Maisie to come with him to the library. He took down two volumes of an old county history, and showed her three passages of several pages each. " You have asked me more than once, Maisie, to give 3^ou something to do for me," he smiled unpleasantly the girl thought, " you will do me a service if you copy these out. I have to send them to a friend who wants the inform- ation, and I do not choose to lend him the books." "Yes, grandfather." Then she plucked up courage. "I suppose to-morrow will do," she said. " I have promised to take a walk this afternoon with Miss Savvay." Mr. Yardon smiled, but the girl felt that he was dis- pleased. '* I want this copying done to-day, if you please. I am sorry to disarrange your plans, but this is business. Make your copy as distinct as possible, some of it may have to be printed from if my friend should quote from it." Miss Savvay came in and found Maisie standing alone and miserable-looking before the big open books. " What is happening ? " the girl said. " I have felt in a maze ever since I heard you refuse Miss Vernon's invita* tion. I heard you say * I am leaving to-morrow,' what could you mean ? " " That is just what I have come to tell you." She took Maisie by the arm and seated her in a chair beside the fire. ** I have a message to give you from your grandfather," she said. ■ 11- ■ I! MAISIE DERRICK, \%\m v ,!■ CHAPTER VII. DRUSILLA'S journey to ENGLAND. Miss Lescure and her companion had travelled as quick^ as possible, but when they reached Paris, Drusilla told Mr* Ray she was too tired to travel any farther. " I hope you will give me a day's rest," she said, ** or I shall be ill when I get to Yardon Hall." Mr. Ray felt obliged to yield. He said they would spend next day quietly in Paris, although he had had Mr. Yar- don's instructions not to halt anywhere on the journey. Secretly he was glad of the rest, and he promised him- self a very pleasant day in Paris with his beautiful charge. He went to bed early, and did not rise till late next morning. When he reached the coffee-room of tlie hotel, he told the waiter that the lady would breakfast in her room. " I beg pardon, sir," the man answered, " but the lady ordered breakfast some time ago. She then ordered a car- riage and she has gone out shopping. The demoiselle de bureau has gone with her." Mr. Ray looked annoyed. He felt very much alarmed at the idea of Drusilla driving about Paris with a stranger. He asked where the carriage had been told to go, but the waiter said he believed the lady wished to visit several shops, and that he did not thiiik she could be back till past eleven. " In fact, sir," the man srn'led and shrugged his shoul> ders, *' I should not be surprised if madame were to be- even a little later. If monsieur will leave a message I will give it to madame when she returns." MAISIE DERRICK. 5« But Mr. Ray preferred to wait. He was greatly per- plexed. When he consented to stay a day in Paris, he knew that he had risked a reproof from Mr. Yardon, but he had planned out a very pleasant programme for himself and for Miss Lescure. He had ordered a private sitting-room, for he considered that Drusilla ought not to appear at a Paris table dhote.^ and he had looked forward to an afternoon drive when the young lady had recovered from her fatigue, then to a charming little tite-a-tetc dinner, followed by a visit to the theatre. It seemed to the lawyer that the theatre would be more of a treat to a girl who had never seen a great city than any amount of picture galleries or public buildings, and now Miss Lescure had defeated his plans. He vi^as very much upset by this escapade, and yet, as he paced up and down tlie street in front of the hotel, he told himself, from what he had seen of the girl, it was just the sort of thing that might have been expected. " She feels out of the cage, poor little thing, and she is determined to have a fling. I don't fancy she will find much amusement at Yardon." At one o'clock Miss Lescure had not come in, and Mr. Ray had become so much alarmed by her continued absence that he resolved to set the police on her track. He was goii.g downstairs when he met Drusilla looking radiant with pleasure. His anxious face told its own story, and the girl's natural grace gave an extra charm to her apology. When they reached their room she held out her hand and smiled. ** You have been thinking me lost, ah yes, is it not so ? " She said this so sweetly that the lawyer could no more have scolded her than he could have flown — he felt simply helpless under the eyes of this lovely creature ; it seemed to him that she was far more lovely than when he last saw M ■ f.l i Sa MAISIE DERRICK. ij. her. What had she been doing to herself, he wondered. " Let us sit down," the girl said. " I am very happy, but I am just a litde tired, and I am ever so hungry, Mr. Ray. Can we not have something to eat? " she said plaintively in the pretty childish way that her companion found irresist- ible. He rang the bell and ordered luncheon, but even when it vv'as over Miss Lescure did not gratify her companion's curiosity. '* Perhaps you will give orders about my parcels." She spoke in a more languid tone than she had as yet used to- Wiirds him. " I expect several parcels, and they have to be paid for, if you please." " Do you know how much they will amount to ? " he asked. She laughed and showed her pretty even teeth. " I will give you the bills — I know nothing about money." Then she went into her room and brought out a little embroid- ered bag, evidently a new purchase, from which she took a handful of bills and placed them on the table before Mr. Ray. " See," she said carelessly, " they cannot amount to much. I have not looked at them, but I only bought trifles till I had asked your leave. I want to stay another day, please. I had no idea Paris was so charming. I have seen some gowns and bonnets which would exactly suit me M He glanced over the bills, and while he added them up Drusilla took off her hat. Mr. Ray was looking very serious at the sum total, but when he glanced at his companion he stared in utter sur- prise. " Ah I " she laughed, " you like the change ! You may thank yourself for it, Mr. Ray. You told me a good deal about my guardian yesterday, and 1 am sure that he will MAJSIE DERRICK. 53 prefer to see me like other ladies. I was like an uncouth country girl till I went to the hairdresser." '* Pardon me," he said, " you could never be uncouth, but I can't help regretting the loss of your beautiful hair." Drusilla clapped her hands and then laughed at him. ** That is so like a man. It does not follow because my front hair has been frizzed and shortened that I have lost any of Ihe rest. See," she half turned her pretty hear*., " it is coiled round and round at the back. Never mind my hair, I want to hear you say decidedly that we are to stay over to-morroT/." The lawyer's face grew red, he fidgetted and hesitated, but Drusilla stood looking at him as if she meant to smile him into saying " yes." At last he gathered up the bills and looked again at his own adding up. " I regret to say, Miss Lescure, that it is not possible to stay. This is an expensive hotel, and in short we have already spent far more than your guardian counted on — these little bills of yours amount to nearly fifty pounds." ** Are you sure you have added them up right — fifty pounds ! and there is only one frock, a hat and a few lace things." " That is only one bill. Miss Lescure ; there are three others besides that one — they are quite correct ; But we really must leave Paris to-night." " You cannot mean it, you could not be so cruel." She looked up at him imploringly, but he went on — " I am very sorry, but I am due in London, and you are expected at Yardon to-morrow. I — I cannot tell you how grieved I am to vex you by refusing," he said gently; but Drusilla turned her back on him and hurried into her bedroom. She refused Mr. Ray's proposal of a drive when he sent to offer it, and she spent the afternoon in the contempla- tion of her purchases. She tried on the gown, and it fitted 54 MAISIE DERRICK, her as if it had been made for her. She would have liked to dine in ii, but Mr. Ray had sent word they must start soon after dinner, and she knew the gown required careful packing. Drusilla had never packed before this journey, but she deftly placed all her purchases in the trunk she had boughv to hold them. She was as tender of the pleats and trimmings as though they were living things. The con- templation and handling of them restored her good temper, and when dinner wa?. announced she came in with a sweet smile that consoled Mr. Ray for his dull afternoon. The poor man had not dared to leave the hotel lest in his ab- sence Miss Lescure should take another flight among the shops. Drusilla was determined to be pleasant. She listened to her companion's stories, and led him to talk about Mr. Yardon far more fully than he had intended to do. She looked very bright and happy, but she listened far more than she talked, and once or twice the lawyer thought he saw a far-off look in her sweet dark eyes, as if she were thinking of something else differing from what he was saying. The girl was really dazed with the amount of novelty that had been suddenly thrust on her. So many new places, new people and beautiful things had passed like ever-shifting visions before her eyes in these last days that life had begun to seem unreal. Two days ago she would have said this frankly to Mr. Ray, but after her evening walk with the lawyer Drusilla had taken herself to task. Her mother had always told her tuat no girl would succeed in life who held herself cheap, and although she had taken Victoire with her, she felt tliat her mother would have disapproved of her own easy way of talking and going about with a stranger. Madame Lescure had lived in seclusion in the lonely cottage, but she had been always treated with great re- r I': MAISIE DERRICK, 55 spect by her neighbors. The tall, plainly dressed, silent lady had kept aloof from all these sociable happy people, yet she had always been kindly greeted by them, and when she died Drusilla had been overwhelmed with sympathy. But the girl had not felt inclined to talk freely to the Sentis people. She saw that their eyes were full of eager curiosity, and she had repelled their advances ; it was the intoxica- tion of her coming splendor that had drawn her into such artless confidences with Mr. Ray on that first evening. She had very nearly told hiro of the Cannes episode, but she had not found the opportunity. When she reached home on that evening, she told Victoire that she would give her Madame Lescure's clothes and her own — for the girl thought that there was no need to let any one know how poor she had been, or how shabbily she had dressed. Drusilla was extremely practical, and she handled her mother's clothing without any of the sentiment which some daughters would have felt in so doing. She turned out the pockets and found them empty. In folding an under- petticoat it touched a chair and sent out a sound that made her unfold it again. She found a little pocket, and in this a small black silk bag. In this was a tiny leather case con- taining a locket. On one side was the face of a middle- aged man with dark stern eyes, on the other was the likeness of a younger face, fair-skinned and smiling, with a delicate high-bridged nose and full lip^. Underneath this was a strip of paper, and on it were the words, ** The like- ness of my father, Charles Antoine Lescure." The girl grew cold while she looked at the faded bit of. writing. It was her mother's and signed with her mother's initials, and at the first glance she had hailed it as a means of throwing light on the mystery that hung over her? but that feeling quickly faded. Lescure was her mother's name not her father's, and she grew pale as she realized this. ''ti ■■:,: 1 - .. ■; 'A S6 MAISIE DERRICK. It could not be that her mother had married a cousin, for Drusilla knew that her mother had often said she had no relations. She had been an only child, and so had her father and mother. It was of course possible that Madame Lescure had married a man with the same name, and for a while Drusilla tried to believe .'.his. But she could not convince herself it was so ; it seemed to her that in this portrait she had found the key to tlie mystery of her bring- ing up. If her mother had never been married, Drusilla, who knew well how proud she was, could understand her love of solitude and her dislike to her fellow creatures. She wondered who was the other portrait — was it her real father, the man who had ruined h^^r mother's life ? Drusilla was so angry when this thought came ihat she flung the little case on the ground and stamped on it with the heel of her shoe, then she threw it into the stove and tried to forget what it had taught her. Mr. Ra> had found her changed and silent at the begi!i- ning of the journey. Slie had lain awake in the night, and she looked ill and depressed. Little by little the events of her journey had cheered her, and had distracted her mind from this sad trouble, and when she reached Paris she fair'/ forgot it all in the excitement of finding herself in the gay city. Her excursion this morning and her talk with the young woman who had gone with her had made Drusilla feel older and wiser. She had learned many lessons in con- ventional behavior, and she had above all become more certain of her own powers of attraction. The hairdresser's compliments, and then the adroit flattery of the shop-woman who had sold her the go'vn and the lace which had so fascinated Drusilla ; then the mil- liner, as she tried the girl's bonnet, had made her know how beautiful she was. She had never heard the old saying, *' Praise tc the face Is open disgrace," MAISIE DERRICK. 57 and at this felt that she had become a very important person. She haaalso been impressed by the attention with which some other buyers in the gown shop had looked at her, and she had studied their behavior to the sliop-woman and to one another. They had been chiefiy English ladies, and Drusilla admired their quiet self-possessed manner and the gentle way in which they spoke. She had a singular gift of imitation, and she at once resolved to adopt this manner, which seemed to her impressive and distinguished, and in those vague talks with her mother Drusilla had learned that a first impression was most important. While she sat listening to Mr. Ray, the girl had mentally gone back to those talks with her mother. She ardently wished that she had persuaded her to tell her something more definite about her future than those vague allusions to a rich home and a powerful protector. But when Madame Lescure reached this point she had always ended with an abrupt dismissal of the subject. This morning had given Drusilla several lessons. One of the ladies at the milliner's had a beautiful carriage and a fine pair of horses and some well-appointed servants. Drusilla had instantly compared herself with this lady, and she had decided that her own beauty was far greater. She ought therefore, she considered, to have at least as good a position as this lady had. She resolved to make the best of her opportunities at Yardon ; but, unless she was likely to find a rich husband, she did not think she should stay. V. I '}: I ; * II ;8 MAISIE DERRICK. CHAPTER VIII. DRUSILLA AT YARDON. Yardon Hall was only about three hours distance from London, and the housekeeper had been sent off by a very early train to meet Miss Lescure on her arrival at the station. There was to be no delay, Mr. Yardon had said, and now about three o'clock he sat in the library expecting his ward's arrival. He was restless and he seemed unhappy. The sad look on his face 'deepened when he heard the barking of the dogs. Then came the sound of steps in the hall, and Warren threw open the library door and announced Miss Lescure. Drusilla came in like a flash of sunshine, tall and slim and beautiful, while her fair hair showed golden as the light fell on it. Mr. Yardon had risen at her entrance, but he was so dazzled by her appearance that Drusilla took a far more comprehensive view of him than he received of her at the first glance. She saw a stern-faced man with fine dark eyes deeply set under strong grey eyebrows, and she liked him. There was nothing in his face to justify the attraction she at once found in him except that she thought he looked strong- willed and determined, and that if she could make a friend of him, there would be far more to be proud of than in the cc^qut;st of a weaker man. Drusilla had not felt impressed by her reception so far. She had found the housekeeper dowdy and stupid, and she noticed that the journey from the station was made in a dog-cart instead of the carriage and MAISIE DERRICK, 59 pair of fine horses and footmen which she had expected to find waiting for her at the station. Warren looked a prime personage. There had been nothing to confuse or make her nervous, and the bare walls of the hall and its faded carpets and mats and old-fashioned chairs made her decide that Mr. Yardon was not quite in the position she hoped one day to occupy. His manner, however, satisfied her ; he held out both hands and shook hers warmly. *' I am very glad to see you, my dear," he said kindly. ** I hope you have had a pleasant journey." His eyes lingered on the girl's lovely face, he could not take them away. Drusilla answered him calmly and with a pleasant smile j Mr. Yardon was greatly impressed, there was such an entire absence of shyness in the girl ; no nervous flutter, no flusli on the fair smooth face ; she returned his glance fully, but even her pouting lips did not tremble. " You look older than I expected," he said, as he pulled a chair forward ; " you cannot be more than eighteen, I think." Di usilla gave him a scrutinizing look out of her long dark ej'es ; she seated herself in the chair he had placed for he. " I am nineteen." Her calm quiet manner puzzled M.. Yardon ; he checked a sigh. " Did your — your mother speak of me sometimes ?"he said. Drusilla hesitated a moment. " No," she answered firmly. She could not bo sure that Mr. Yardon was the nameless protector about whom hei mother had hinted so mysteriously. She had even said that if Drusilla was modest and obedient her future would be sj)lendid. As she looked round she saw how dull it all was, she could not even see a looking glass ; the only 1i Hi i ■ M ^ ; €o MAISIE DERRICK. P gilding was on the backs of the old brown books, and that was tarnished gilding. It was not possible, she thought, that this was her future benefactor, but she liked him. " Ah ! " Mr. Yardon leaned back in his chair and looked at her inquisitively. " I wonder now what you had thought of doing, young lady, when you found yourself left alone in the world ? " Drusilla slov;Iy raised her eyes and looked into his. There was positively no expression in her fair face as she answered : " I had not time to think, sir ; my mother gave a letter addressed to you to our doctor, but she did not tell me what she had written. She died the day your first letter came to me. There was no need for me to think, you see." She smiled as she ended. Her wonderful self-possession astonished him and the smile jarred him. He remembered that this girl's mother had not been buried a week yet, and she could smile already while she spoke of her death. But as he looked at the young girl he felt soothed by the mere sight of her beauty. '* Are you very tired ? " he found himself actually thinking about her feelings. ** I am not tired yet," she said brightly, " everything is such a change to me. As long as I am amused I do not think I shall feel tired." There was a wistful look in her eyes which puzzled him. She was thinking of Mr. Ray's description of life at Yardon, and this old-fashioned room full of books had greatly depressed her. The idea of living in such a place alone with this stern man was dreadful just as she had gained her freedom. Mr. Yardon smiled, but Drusilla was sure that he was vexed. " I shall expect you to amuse me," he said. " It is not much trouble to amuse old people," he said drily. Then MAISIE DERRICK, 6t with a twinkle in his dark eyes, " A young friend of mine comes here now and then on purpose to amuse me, he is a capital fellow." He did not fail to see the pleased look that crossed Drusilla's face. He rose, rang the bell and desired that Miss Lescure should be taken to her room. Left alone, he wondered why he had made that remark about Stanmore. He was ashamed to confess that Drusilla's hint had alarmed him, and that in the fear of losing so charming a companion as she promised to be he had thrown out this bait ; he was sure that the mere sight of a young man would please her. He forgot that Drusilla was a French girl and had been brought up in France, and her heart was set on marriage as a means of gratifying her ambition. She liked conquest, but the idea of marrying a man only because she cared for him would have seemed to her selfish and unwise. Her mother had taught her that beauty was the only possession a poor girl needed ; it made her the equal of a rich and distinguished man. She had not told the girl she would have a young or a handsome husband, no girl could expect to have everything, and money and position were the great prizes that made life tolerable. Drusilla repeated all this to herself as she followed the maid up the broad low staircase and looked curiously about her. They had reached a square landing from which the stairs went on to the left for a little way and then paused at a gloomy arched opening. Through the gloom Drusilla spied a tall clock and a huge black and gold Indian cabinet. The maid pushed open a red baize door facing them, and Drusilla had to follow her along a low gallery lighted from above, with doors on either side. The girl felt disappointed with the surroundings. This low passage with its narrow strip of carpet and bare walls could, she thought, only lead to the inferior rooms ; but she had not much time to think 62 MAISIE DERRICK. in, for the passage broadened at its farther end in front of a half-closed door. The maid pushed this fully open, and Brusilla followed her into a handsome bed-room with a rich carpet and quaint dark furniture. Drusilla smiled at the sight of a large oval mirror on the dressmg table and another exactly opposite on the ward- robe ; she could see herself reflected f\om head to foot. A large easy chair with a footstool in front of it were placed close to the cheerful wood fire. The girl seated herself, she felt soothed and cheered. She noticed a little sofa at the end of the bed with a small writing table in front of it, with all the necessaries for writing on it. Yes, she thought, there would after all be something to enjoy in all this unusual comfort. The bed hangings and window curtains were dowdy compared with those of the room she had slept in in Paris, but those were trifles ; if she stayed at Yardon all that could be greatly improved. The maid disturbed her by asking for her keys. " I'll take out your things, miss, please," she said. Drusilla looked at the girl, she had small inquisitive eyes and large clumsy hands. " I prefer to unpack my own things, thank you. I will ring when I want you," she said in the calm dignified tone she had adopted. " Yes, ma'am," the maid answered meekly, but she went downstairs and reported that the visitor was a " stuck-up young baggage, for all her pretliness." Drusilla longed to feast her eyes on her purchases, but she was more anxious to discover whether there was any other inmate of this dismal-looking old house besides Mr. Yardon. She waited a few minutes and then she went softly to the door and listened. She could only hear the dull tick of a MAISIE DERRICK. 63 far-off clock. She left her door ajar and then went back by the red baize door to the landing at the foot of the gloomy archway. She had an intense curiosity to find out what lay beyond this gloom. She found herself in a sort of ante-room or landing, sur- rounded on two sides with books. A small ground glass window admitted scanty light, and opposite it on the left was a short passage. Drusilla gave a sigh of relief. At the end of the short pas- sage she had come into a lofty gallery with doors on both sides, and a flood of light streamed through a window at the end of it. Drusilla hesitated. It was possible, she thought, that Mr. Yardon might occupy one of these rooms, and she dared not risk opening one of the closed doors. She went softly on to the window, and then she saw that a passage opened on her right with one door at its end and another close by her. From the window she looked on to the lawn, only divided by a sunk fence from the far stretching fields beyond it. Drusilla could not see one house for the village lay on the the other side of the Hall, and she felt greatly depressed at the prospect before her. She turned from the window feeling as if she were a prisoner, then she looked again up the little passage on her right and she saw that the door was ajar. Without stopping to think she went forward and pushed it open. Her bright eyes opened widely. It was a smaller room than hers, and it had only one window which faced the door ; but when Drusilla reached the middle of the room she saw a deep recess parallel with the entrance passage, and in this was a pianoforte and a bookcn,se. But this was not all. The curtain across a hanging closet was partly undrawn and showed dresses and cloaks, and there were little knick- r>t I ii MAISIE DERRICK, knacks on the mantel-shelf and on the toilet table. This was plainly a woman's bedroom. Drusilla went up to the hanging closet and looked at the gowns. They were very simple, but they lookod like a lady's gowns. In a moment the girl felt keenly jealous, and then as she looked round her she saw how much shabbier the furniture was here than in her own room. The sound of a distant bell interrupted her examination. She resolved to go and unpack, and then to find out who the lady was who occupied this curious old-fashioned room. Drusilla had picked up a good deal more knowledge of life from her school fellows at the convent than she had learned from her mother, it seemed to her possible that some lady might live at the Hall who was not Mr. Yardon's wife. MAISIE DERRICK, «s CHAPTER IX. A SPARRING MATCH. . n Mr. Stanmore received the summons he expected, and he told his landlady he should not return for a week. It seemed to Mrs. Grieg that this was a fortunate time to choose for a long-talked of visit to her own people, and when she received a note from her lodger, putting off his return for yet another week, she decided to go and see the old aunt, from whom she had " expectations," so as to be back before the beginning of *' spring cleaning." She left the day after Miss Lescure's arrival, and now that she had come back, it was vexatious to have no one at hand to question as to what had happened in her ab- sence, for s^ very much had liappened of late. Miss Savvay's arrival and speedy departure, and, finally, the arrival of this handsome young French girl, had excited Mrs. Grieg's curiosity to such a pitch that if she had not made all her arrangements, and had not also been afraid of offending her aunt, she certainly would have deferred her journey ; it was mortifying to go away )n the early morning, ignorant even of the name of the new visitor at the Hall. Mrs. Grieg had passed a satisfactory holiday with her aunt, and had returned, and she resolved to lose no more time in satisfying herself. As soon as she had finished her tea, and washed up her cup and saucer, she closed the front door behind her and crossed the road to the forge. On Sundays, and when work was over, the forge had a blank appearance. It was a tiled, low-roofed barn, with a large pair of wooden doors. At this time in the ■v I! \ 'r ■ \ I ., '1 66 MAISIE DERRICK, afternoon, the doors stood open and showed a dark, cavernous place, with a glowing red light in its midst. This light showed the bronzed faces and arms of two powerful-looking men; one ringing out musical blows with a huge hammer on a bit of iron lying on the anvil beside the red glow, his shirt-sleeves rolled up to the elbow, thereby displaying the muscles of his hairy arms ; his companion stood leaning against the wall near by, as if he had given up work. Mrs. Grieg nodded to him. " Good-day to you, Mr. George," she said, politely ; ** shall I find your father in, d'ye think .' '''' She pointed to a thatched cottage just beyond the torge. The burly smith nodded. "Surely, ma'am, you'll find him, as usual ; you always finds the old 'un in at this time. I'd 've thought, by now," he said, with a chuckle, "you'd no call to ask that, Mrs. Grieg." Mrs. Grieg moved her head as if she felt unjustly accused by the young smith's grin, and she smiled as she went on to the cottage door. It was pleasant to her to be teased about old Foxley. Mrs. Grieg had no present intention of changing her condition^ but she believed in the old black- smith's admiration and enjoyed it. The cottage-door was closed, but it suddenly opei.ed and a tall woman stood filling up the ppace so that no one could pass by her. She was blue-eyed and sandy-haired, her face was pale and flabby ; except that her mouth was fish-like and greedy, there was n > expiession in the stare that greeted the visitor. "Father in, Harriet?" ^Harriet nodded, and as she did not seem inclined to move, the widow squeezed between her and the white- washed wall, till she reached the open door of a room within. Harriet rubbed her shoulder. "She do push," she grumbled, "but there, it's them that pushes forrardest as MAISIE DERRICIC, 67 takes the cake ! Oh, Lor', oh> Lor'." She sighed, and then she followed her unwelc ne guest. Mr. Foxley was sitting rather bent forward in his chair, with his big blue eyes fixed on Mrs. Gtv^ig. He was strong and hearty, and except for a somewhat frequent visitation of lumbago — due, his daughter said, to a fondness for pastry and such food, — he was as active at seventy-five as he had been ten years befoie. His sight had begun to fail, and, perhaps, for that reason, he considered Mrs. Grieg a nice-looking little woman. He had, however, no wish to appropriate her. His daughter Harriet was plain and dull, but she was willing and slavishly obedient to his wishes, and she was not likely to be tempted to leave him. Mr. Foxley's notion of life was to let well alone, and better it as much as possible by takir;: amusement from every- thing" that came in his way, and Mrs. Grieg afforded tlie light-hearted old man a good deal of amusement, without making a conscious effort to produce it. '' Well," she was saying when Harriet jomed them, " I've been thinking a deal f<,bout you all, and how things were going on. It isn't leap-year, you know, dear Mr. Foxley, and yet so many strange things have happened. It seemed strange enough, considering what people said about the Hall, that Mr. Yardon should have one young girl to live with him ; but to send for another, and she a furrener, it beats me, it really does." " But he sent one away before the other came, Mrs. Grieg." " Isn*l Miss Derrick coming back then ? Is that your meaning ? I want to hear what the new one's like, and if she visits the cottages as Miss Derrick did ? " Ml. Foxley shook his head. " Three questions in a breath, ma'am ; you must give me a little leisure to answer in. You see I don't fancy anyone knows more than their own business — ofttimes not too much o' that, so you'll maybe excuse me, ma'am, if I don't give an answer to all ( ,.lii. 68 MAISIE DERRICK. you ask for. But there's no mistake on one point, mind you, Mrs. Grieg. This last come young lady is a real beauty. My son Jarge says he never saw a picter as would beat her, and the sext is mostly made the best of in picters, as you know, ma'am." " Dear me ! " Mrs. Grieg's eyes were round with sur- prise. She would not have believed in old Foxley's ver- dict, but Mr. George was well known to have the sharpest sight in Figgsmarsh. " Does the lady visit the cottages, Mr. l-oxley?" The old man's eyes twinkled ; he .ubbed his bristly chin, for, this being Friday, he was greatly in need of his weekly shave. " Well," he said, ** she's only been here a fortnight. It can't be expected, can it, as she'd fall at once into the ways of Miss Derrick, who came two years and more ago." " There ain't many like Miss Derrick," said Mrs. Grieg. Hitherto, she had not thought much of Maisie, who always avoided stopping to talk with her, but so much praise of the new-comer made Mrs. Grieg contradictory. "Understand me, ma'am. I'm not finding fault with Miss Derrick. She's a fine, well-grown young woman, and she have a pleasant face and quiet ways, but, Lor' bless you, Mrs. Grieg, t'other one would take all the wind out of her sails in a crack." Mrs. Grieg had become heated with this unlimited praise of Drusilla ; her face looked pinched and flushed, and there was a tremble in the superior tone of her voice as she answered : " I know one as will never put Miss Derrick second.' Mr. Foxley noted, with much enjoyment, the symptoms of irritation in his neighbor. In his opinion women were such inferior beings that they were sure to be wrong in their assertions. It gave him great pleasure to give Mrs. Grieg a setting-down when she ventured to tackle him. MAISIE DERRICK, 69 "Meaning your lodger, ma*am. Well, I wouldn't be cock-sure about that if I was you, neighbor. This young beauty seems able to turn Mr. Yardon with her little finger, and he's tougher to please than your lodger is, I fancy." Harriet Foxley had stood behind Mrs. Grieg. There was a dull sound, as if she had knocked her head against the wall on which she was leaning. Mrs. Grieg gave a little start, but old Foxley merely glanced at his daughter and then shrugged his shoulders. " I should say," he said, briskly, " chat this young French miss would look higher than Mr. Stanmore. Harriet, my girl, yon'U maybe do that ag'in tlie wall once too often, and make a hole in your skull. It's only a question of which is hardest." Mrs. Grieg turned at this and gave a look of wonder at the pale, stout woman behind her, but Harriet's colorless eyes were staring so blankly before her that she remained unconscious of being observed. " Lor', Mr. Foxley," Mrs. Grieg jaid, " do you mean that she'll be setting her cap at the rv^ctor himself? " Mr. Foxley leaned back and enjoyed a chuckle at his own superior wisdom. " 1 said higher than Mr. Stanmore, my good neighbor, and I'm not going to set a parson higher than a engineer. What's a parson, Mrs. Grieg ? Any fool can be made into one, and he may live and die in the same parsonage like one of his own shrubs — he'll never be more than a parson. Of course, ma'am, you'll understand I ain't speaking of bishops." Mrs. Grieg shivered. She thought her neighbor was very irreverent, if not sacrilegious, and she answered him stiffly, drawing herself up : " Well, Mr. Foxley, that may be your opinion, but I should say it was a higher dooty to raise folkses' souls to Heaven than to be always a laying rails on the earth, as is the means in a way of cutting short other folks' lives." ; ■' •< h :, ■If 70 MA IS IE DERRICK. The old blacksmith shook his head as he fixed his humorous blue eyes on his visitor. " Begging your pardon, ma'am, one i^ as onlikely as t'other, but a capable engineer don't stay where he's first planted, mind. you; he's as safe to rise as that chap, Jack what's-his-name, rose on the bean-vine. Maybe he'll rise into a Barrownight. Such a thing has happened, Mrs. Grieg." He paused, but the little widow did not inter- rupt. '* I was not thinking of any perfessional sweet- heart for Miss Lescure, ma'am," he went on. " She's lae build of a wor n th a .^rd or a real _;entleman is apt to go wild .after. \\<. '^odded his head and winked. "I know 'em." Mrs. Grieg looked at hiai •:uriously. She began to think he was a bit childish about this new visitor at the Hall. " You make me quite anxious to see this beauty," she said in a vexed voice, " but you only praise her ; you don't say what she's like. Is she as tall now as Miss Derrick ? " Harriet seemed to think her turn had come. ** Miss Lescure's a good bit taller than what Miss Derrick is," she said j '•''she ain't no height to speak of." Foxley looked dehghted. " Poor Harry 1 " he said, softly. Then, to Mrs. Grieg: "Yes, ma'am; our beauty is a perfect height; there's nothing about her, so far as I can see, as ain't perfect. I was up the hill yesterday, and she was coming out of the gate along of Mr. Yardon, as straight as a young larch ; the wind was blowing her golden hair about, and her eyes was shining like stars. I looked at her as I touched my hat, and she gave me a smile," he smacked his lips. " Lord, I can see it now. I don't b'lieve Eve was a perfecter female creature than what she is." He checked himself, and a little streak of color showed in each cheek. Though he had always plenty to say, Mr. Foxley prided himself on guiding his tongue with discretion ; he despised women for their unguarded MAISIE DERRICK. 7* (1 speech. He felt now that he had given Mrs. Grieg '*a handle " as he called it. Mrs. Grieg was looking more tortoise-like than ever, as she listened with her head pointed a little on one side, thereby showing many creases in her lean, brown throat, so loose skinned i>at doubtless it had once been plumper. Her keen b^ack eyes glittered with a mixture of curiosity and vexation, as she said r 'Well, I must say, you are wonderful fascinated, Mr. Foxley. — I*: ^in't respectable of him," she thought. He nodded repressively. *^ I tell you all this, ma'am, for you may onderstand my meaning. There'll be a good bit taking place in Figgs- marsh 'tween this and Christmas — more than's been for years past. Captain Wentworth's coming home >r )od, and the Manor House will be open again and ii '.11 v \\. a mistress. This young beauty will take the ij/r^in by storm or I don't know him." He looked a" h i 'rium- ph. ntly. But Mrs. Grieg considered that he was meddling in matters that belonged exclusively to females, and she raised her head stiffly, and drew down her upper lip. *' There's no telling," she said. " The young lady — this beauty, as you call her — may not care for the captain j he'll not be much to look at, I fancy, and all our sex ain't alike in their tastes. You think a heap of him more than likely, because he's lord of the Manor, and so forth, you see." Here she put her head again on one side. " Not being born on his land makes a difference, in my views. If I was this beauty, and a gc d-looking young gentleman came in my way, don't you suppose I'd liever take up with him than with a man with a broken-down constitution, who has spent his time in India, and Heaven knows where. He may have a wife already for what we know to the contrairy." M: 12 MAISIE DERRICK, She gave herself a little flounce of mingled disgust and superior wisdom, and then, as she saw a look of sarcasm in her old friend's face, she felt alarmed. " I was wondering," he said, slowly, " what any of us know about your lodger ; he may have a wife, Mrs. Grieg. Has he ever told you in plain words thrt he is a bachelor man?" The pale woman behind Mrs. Grieg put out both hands as if to save herself from falling, and Mrs. Grieg herself fidgetted and sat staring with a drooping underlip, but she quickly recovered herself. " Of course he'd hava told me, Mr. Foxley, if he'd had a wife, being such a gentleman as he is in all his ways — let alone there'd be a photo or something or other to show. There is a photo, to be sure, that hangs beside his bed, and a very sweet face it is, but Lor', Mr. Foxley, that's his mother ; he's told me so. Well, I must go and see his room's been kep' aired. More than lik«ly, a letter will come to-morrow, a hqur or so before he comes hisself." MAISJE DERRICK, 73 CHAPTER X. A LETTER. Winter has been suddenly and prematurely blotted out by delicious weather, and the unwise leaves, judging by their feelings only, have strewn the ground below them with brown husks, and are busy unfolding their crinkled surfaces. " How delicious the air is ! " Maisie said. " Spring air is so sweet, and yet it makes one feel lazy." Miss Savvay looked up from her book. ** I should not have said there was anything especially lazy about you this morning, child, I was watching you run races with Patch on the grass." The girl leaned back in her chair and laughed. " I said feel, it is not easy to be actually idle besides industrious you." Maisie hesitated and then she looked affectionately at her comppnion, " Perhaps feeling so happy makes me lazy minded." " Happy ! " Miss Savvay shook her head, ** you can be happy anywhere if you choose, Maisie. Why are you so different here and at Yardon ? If I were a bright healthy young girl with your advantages, I would be happy every- where, and I would make my grandfather spoil me." Maisie's head drooped and she looked troubled. Miss Savvay watched her a moment in silence. ** You see," the girl said plaintively, ** it is my fault for being shy. Since I came here I have been wondering whether it is not all vanity ; I can't feel shy with you because you are so indulgent ; you could not be unkind to me, whatever I might do." 1; , ? Hi I ^1 74 MAISIE DERRICK, '* I don't know that, in fact I am now going to scold you. My notion is that you have irritated your grandfather by letting him see that you are afraid of him." ** There is no use in arguing," the girl said, " we come back to the starting point. I will try to do better when I go back. If I could believe that I was of any use, or that my grandfather really cared to have me with him, I could make myself happy : but," — she half-closed her eyes and Miss Savvay saw that she was suffering — presently she went on firmly : " it is better to say it out once for all and then we won't talk of this again. I know what it is to be loved — I never knew anything else till I went to Yardon. I am not fanciful. I never thought about feelings till I lived with my grandfather, but I know that he dislikes me. I go down in the morning bright and happy, and then I can't tell how it comes but I get suddenly chilled, I feel quite frozen. I do everything awkwardly. I look up and I see that he is disgusted ; then my self-control goes. I am frightened, and instead of smiling when I speak, I am as grave and solemn as he is. I can^t conquer myself, dear Miss Savvay, I can't indeed, it is like a nightmare. Now you see how silly I I am." There was a quaver in her voice as she tried to smile. Her friend looked very severe. *' You want a good deal of change," she said ; then very abruptly added, " I can't make out why you don't stay with me altogether ? " Maisie rose up. " I promised to live ac Yardon," she said in a sorrowful voice and she went upstairs. Miss Savvay's rooms were smaller than those at Yardon, but they had the undefinable charm about them which a woman's taste can exercise, supposing that she has such a faculty. The carpet was old and the paper on the walls was faded — they had been good, but the curtains were dainty and fresh looking, and so was the covering of the MA IS IE DERRICK, 75 chairs and sofas and the various cushions lying about on them. Little tables were placed just where a table was needed, and there were pretty kiiick-knacks on them. Flowers freshly gathered and effectively grouped brightened every part of the room. It is possible that these pleasant surroundings, which reminded Maisie of her own home with her mother, had helped to make the congenial atmosphere she had found at Ailthorpe. She did not care to stay long upstairs, the talk with her friend had not left any pleasant food for reflection. She found Miss Savvay reading a letter. ** Guess who my correspondent is," she said. ** You need not be jealous, Maisie, I will read you Mr. Stanmore's letter." The girl's eyes brightened. She looked very happy as she seated herself near the window with her faced turned from her companion. All this distance away it had seemed to Maisie that her sight had cleared, and that she had been fancying when she thought Mr. Stanmore's manner meant more than kindness. The letter began : •* Dear Miss Saway," ** I could not see you again at Yardon, for the day after our expedition I received a summons to town, and had to stay there a fortnight before the business I went on was completed. I was so much mortified to find that you had fled and had carried off Miss Derrick. I write now to ask when you are coming back, as the squire speaks of it as a thing likely to happen. Have heard about Mr. Yardon's visitor, and you will expect me to say what I think of her. I hear this is her first vi^jjt to England. " Miss Lescure is very beautiful, and she seems very amiable." " Miss Lt cure — what does he mean ? " Maisie looked amazed. " You know I told you there was a reason for our leaving Yardon. Your grandfather, I believe, meant to tell you himself. He asked me to take you away because some one was coming to stay at Yardon, and I fancy he wanted 76 MAISIE DERRICK. I i to be sure that this visitor was quite fit to associate with you, Maisie, but he did not enter into details. Now listen, I had only read so far when you came in. << I have only seen her once and then Mr. Yardon introduced her as his ward — Miss Lescure. I should like you and Miss Derrick to see her She impressed me as being very lovely, very silent, but also very anxious to make a good impression ; but you have no doubt heard all about her from Mr. Yardon." " How very strange," Maisie said, " that grandfather does not write and tell me ? What does it all mean ? " Miss Savvay was silent ; at first she had felt glad that the strange old man should have filled Maisie*s place, but as she thought the matter over, it seemed to her that this might be some impostor who would perhaps rob Maisie of what she had a right to expect. **Just now," the letter went on, "I got up and looked out of window and I saw Mr. Yardon and his ward coming down the hill. He was laughing, and was evidently much amused by his companion's talk. She seems l^nt on taming our unsociable squire. Tell Miss Derrick Bhe ought to come back and watch over her grandfather. Miss Lescure may be a vampire in the shape of an angel.'* " The letter breaks off here," Miss Savvay said ; " it goes on again in c! liferent ink." *' I have just come in to finish my letter, and I am half-inclined to tear it up. I fear I have given you a wrong impression of Miss Lescure. That is all nonsense I wrote above ; she is no doubt as good as she is beautiful. I meant to have sent you a much longer letter, but have been walking with them, and I am to dine at the Hall this evening. I sup- pose it is no news to you to hear that Captain Wentworth is really Gaming home and may be expected at the Manor House any time next month. The Figgsmarsh people are agog, talking of triumphal arches, a bonfire, fireworks and all sorts of rejoicing I Good-bye. ** Sincerely yours, " Luke Stanmore." Miss Savvay looked at Maisie. The girl sat with her eyes fixed on the windows and her clasped hands quite still in her lap. ** Do you think Miss Lescure is going to live at Yardon ? " she said at last in a voice not like her own. MAISIE DERRICK. 77 " I only know what I told you." Then Miss Savvay added cheerfully : ** It will make a change, will it not — if you like her. It will be at least pleasant to have a young com- panion." ** Yes," Maisie said slowly. Then after a pause she added : "You are quite right. I am so slow you sec in making up my mind that at first I was not sure that I liked the idea of finding a stranger when I go back to Yardon, but I expect Miss Lescure will brighten us all. She has already done wonders with my grandfather, to judge by that letter. Fancy his taking a walk with her." ** Yes." Miss Savvay felt doubtful and troubled. She did not like this suddenly gained influence over Mr.Yai don, and she did not at all like the change of tone in Mr. Sianmore's letter — there was even a change in the handwriting. It had seemed at the beginning as if he took a pleasure in what he was doing, but after the break in the letter the writing was hurried and scarcely legible — ** finished off anyhow/* Miss Savvay thought. The maid came in with a note. Miss Savvay read it, and then she looked troubled. " I'm afraid I must go," she said. " I'm wanted at once at the Vicarage. I must leave you to amuse yourself, dear child." Maisie was glad to be left alone. Mr. Stanmore's letter had given her much to think over ; a feeling that was entirely new to her — something between disquiet and dis- trust — had taken the place of that serene peace which had made her so happy at Ailthorpe. She had often wished to see Mr. Stanmore, and every day the wish had grown stronger, but she had felt so sure of finding him the same when she went back to Yardon. He had not said in words : ** I love you, Maisie "but his eyes had said it more than once. In that last walk across the moor with Miss Savvay they had said : " I love you and you may trust me." Alaisie's trust had gone with her love. She thought her- m I i' x. • \ "I 'til , '' ' t 78 MA IS IE DERRICK, self unworthy of his affection, and yet she believed in it wholly and without reserve. She did not know the meaning of this strange trouble that brooded on her and kept her sitting at the window while Miss Savvay went to the Vicarage. In the morning the spring flower-beds on the lawn had seemed to sparkle witu color, and now, although the sun was still shining, a grey tone had spread itself over all. Maisie felt that she was tired of Ailthorpe ; she longed to be at Yardon again. MAISIE DERRICK, 79 CHAPTER XI. . \m- The old saying, '* Absence makes the heart grow fonder," had justified its truth in Mr. Stanmore. When he found himself obliged to leave Figgsniarsh without seeing Maisie Derrick, he first decided on writing to her ; then when he realized how much he should lose by telling his love on paper he resolved to wait. It was a fresh trial of patience to learn on his return that Maisie was not at the Hall, but Mrs. Grieg lost no time in telling him where she was to be found, and a few days after his return to the village he began a letter to Miss Savvay. His motive in writing was to ask if he might appear at Ailthorpe, but before he rea :hed this point he was interrupted by his landlady. " If you please, sir," it's Mr. Yardon and his young lady. He wants to see you, sir, but he won't come up tho' I asked him." Stanmore hurried downstairs and found Mr. Yardon on the door-step. " Good day, Stanmore," he nodded. " Come along, I want you to look at a horse." He crossed over to the forge, where one of his horses, a handsome creature, was being shod. The operation was quite finished, and Stanmore found that he was expected to praise this horse which he had already seen and admired more than once ; he looked inquiringly at Mr. Yardon, he knew very well that he had not been called downstairs only for this, " Why don't you come up and see us ? " Mr. Yardon was trying to look grave, yet the corners of his mouth seemed disposed to broaden into a laugh. " What W 1' !l 11 ■iiil ill \ ■? 8o MAISIE DERRICK, • i'.ti happened to you in London to make such a change ? You were ready enough to come before you went there : what has made you so unsociable, eh ? " Stanmore knew by the change in the old man's face that he must be looking conscious. " I have only been back a few days," he said. " Nonsense, you must come up and dine with us ; come up this evening, No," he put up his hand, " I won't hear any excuses. I told your landlady just now she needn't provide dinner for you. You'll be surprised I can tell you. Come this way, we shall find Miss Lescure at the draper's." He walked on, and Stanmore found himself obliged to fol- low. He noticed that Mr. Yardon did not change gre'itings with a single villager who passed him. One or two men nodded to Stanmore, and a woman curtsied, but Mr. Yardon seemed far more like a stranger in the village than his com- panion did. They walked on silently till they reached the draper's. Miss Lescure came out at the same moment. She did not seem at first to notice Stanmore, but he was looking at her, and he saw how radiantly she smiled at Mr. Yar- don. Her face looked very lovely under the shade of her large black hat and feathers. " If Maisie had only smiled like that at her grandfather,'' he thought, ** her life would have been happier with him, old people like to be petted and made much of. She threw away her chances, poor girl, but then she is too genuine to affect what she does not feel. I believe this girl is play- ing a part." "How do you do?" Miss Lescure said in her pretty foreign accent, and as Mr. Yardon introduced Stanmore, she put her long slim fingers into his hand. Mr. Yardon turned back and led the way to the foot of "^/icarage Lai.'\ Miss Lescure was silent, and Stanmore d'ci n^K feci obliged to talk to her. MAISIE DERRICK 8| " How long have you had that horse, Mr Yardon ? " he said. Mr. Yardon stopped and looked back, he was a few paces ahead of Stanmore. " Between three and four years. I must go in here. If you and Miss Lescure walk on I shall catch you up directly.'- Stanmore walked on with Mr. Yardon's ward, but he was annoyed ; he admired Miss Lescure very much, he felt it was pleasant to look at her, but he considered himself engaged to Maisie, and he did not wish the gossips of Figgsmarsh to say that in her absence he had waL 1 about with this beautiful young woman. She was looking straight before her, and appeared to be unconscious of his admiration. It was evident that she would not break the silence. " Do you like England ? " he said at last as the silence continued. She turned her eyes on hini. What eyes they were — so dark and so liquid, and so full of tender yet pensive thought. Stanmore felt ashamed of liis harsh judgment. " Do you think I can tell yet," she said meekly. " You cannot expect me to like London, I saw only the roofs and the dirty chimnics of houses as we came into it. Wr did not stir from the station till it was time for the tra' -, to bring me to Figgsmarsh." He liked her clear voice and her pretty foreigi ccent, he was sorry when she left off speaking. " Well," iie smiled at hei, " what do you think . i Figgs- marsh and the neighborhood ? It is of course a si 11 place, but people can judge from samples." Drusilla shook her head and smiled. " Figgsmarsh is too small a place and almost all the people are villagers." Stanmore laughed. 6 III' 'S'\ ■f.: 1 \. Pi MAISIE DERRICK, A i " I suppose I ought to say, how do you like the change to England?" Drusilla looked relieved. " That is an easier question to answer, and I love easy questions so much better than difficult ones," she said with a sweet humility that Stanmore felt was very winning in such a lovely creature. " Yes," she went on, *' I like the change at present be- cause it is change, perhaps, and I suppose Mr.Yardon sorne- *^imes has visitors ? " She looked calm, but she was very anxious for his answer, she felt that he would tell her all she wanted to know. She had asked Mr. Yardon who slept in that other part of the house, but he only answered very gravely, " A visitor sometimes sleeps there," and i .n he began to talk of some- thing else. Drusilla had been afraid to question the house- keeper, but she *'elt sure there was a mystery. " There are not often visitors at the Hall," Stanmore answered ; " but I suppose you know Miss Derrick lives there, you will soon have her back again — you know she is Mr. Y rdons granddaughter." He said this in answer to her look of surprise. Drusilla was very much vexed. She felt such power over Mr. Yardon that she could not understand why he had not told her this. She felt determined that Mr. Stan- more should tell her everything. " Miss Derrick is very young, I suppose, then ? " " She is about your age I fancy, perhaps rather older ; you will find her a very delightful companion." He saw a weary look of discontent in the girl's beautiful eyes, and it puzzled him. Drusilla had noticed a certain change in his manner. She already liked Mr. Stanmore, and she thought, as visitors seemed to be rare at the Hall, it would be pleasant to see him often, but she should prefer to keep such a visitor to MAISIE DERRICK. 83 herself. She disliked a half-share in anything. She thought th?.t Miss Derrick would come in he*- way both with Mr. Yardon as well as with her present companion. She began to speak of her journey. " Do you know Mr. Ray ? " she said. " No ; I have heard Mr. Yardon speak of him. Did he travel with you ? " " Oh ! yes, he fetched me from abroad, he was very amiable, I think." She put her hand up to her mouth to hide a yawn. Stanmore noticed her gloves, they were new and light- colored, and he felt jarred. Miss Lescure had yet to learn how to dress for a country walk. He answered her with a quickness that attracted her notice. " Do you find amiable people wearisome ? " Drusilla smiled at him. " You are not ; but then you are not, perhaps, always so amiable as you have been to-day." ** You need not be afraid of me. People generally make themselves pleasant to you, do they nc ? ' he said, as frankly as if he were speaking to Maisie Derrick. Drusilla thought he was brusque. " I have not lived with many people," she said, stiffly. " Really ! " He saw an angry look in her dark eyes. She paused before she answered. ** I have lived shut up with an invalid." Presently she said, in a softened tone : " You can guess, perhaps, how much I enjoy the freedom of doing what I like." Stanmore felt interested and puzzled, but he felt sure that Miss Lescure did not wish to l>c questioned about her past life. '* I am glad you will soon have Miss Derrick back at Yardon," he said. She smiled in a bright mocking way, that made him re- gret his words. He saw now that he had implied his own !l1 m Ml r • if' 1 1 t li ;lj i 1; i I' ; 41. ":ii ■w. H MAISIE DERRICK, It;; ,v %\ X- good opinion of Maisie. This strange girl seemed to be laughing at him j she had, perhaps, guessed at his love for Maisie. "You appear to be very sure that I shall like Miss Derrick," she added, saucily. " I want to hear about her, please. To begin with, she is, of course, beautiful ? " Stanmore bit his lips. " I am not good at description," he said, nervously, " so I may give you a wrong impression. Every one here will tell you about Miss Derrick's goodness ; she is so kind to the poor people when they are in trouble, you should hear them talk about her." Drusilla looked serious, she pouted a little. " I shall be afraid of your paragon, Mr. Stanmore, I am not at all good, you see, and Miss Derrick will despise me." He w?' very much vexed. " I told you how it would be," he said. " I cannot de- scribe people, and I have given you an entirely wrong idea. Miss Derrick is the sweetest, brightest girl you can think of — you cannot help loving her." Drusilla was staring at him gravely while he spoke, but when he ended she smiled and half closed her eyes till they looked HVc dark velvet lines. " You a.o, at any rate, a warm friend, Mr. Stanmore, you make mv? curious to see Miss Derrick ; she is, at least, very good-looking, I suppose ? " Stanmore longed to turn the subject, but he was obliged to answer. " No ; there is a singular charm abcut her, but you will not think her beautiful. She is gifted in many ways, and she has read a great deal." " Worse and worse. I shall be frightened to death. I shall not dare to open my mouth before her ; I am sure she is what our Sisters at the Convent used to call ' a very superior person ? ' " i- l^-f'r IM MAISm DERRICK, 85 Stanmore walked on in savi?ge silence. He almost hated Miss Lescure., she had somehow put Maisie in an unfavor- able light, or ratlier she had made him see that his beloved's qualities were too rare to be appreciated by every one. He was glad anv! sorry when they reached the Hall gates; he wished he could alter the impression he had given of Maisie, and yet something warned him that he had better not speak of her anymore to Miss Lescure. " Good-bye," she said, " we shall see you this evening, so I will say ^ au revoir ? ' " " By jove, what a grace the girl has about her ! " Stan- more thought ; ** she will be like a queen when she has mixed a little more with others." S6 MA/SIE DERRICK, CHAPTER XII. FIRST IMPRESSIONS. «i Miss Savvay wrote to Mr. Yardon to propose Maisie's return, and she received a polite but decided vefusal. Mr. Yardon hoped soon, however, to write and fix a time when he should have the pleasure of seeing both Miss Savvay and his granddaughter. At the end of a month, Miss Savvay was summoned to London to meet her nephew, Captain Wentworth, on his arrival, and she wrote to Mr. Yardon to announce Maisie's return. The girl was a little nervous about her reception, and also about Miss Lescure. She had counted on having Miss Savvay with her whenever she went back, and she felt shy to her finger-tips when she reached the Hall. Warren told her his master was out, but that she would find Miss Lescure in the drawing-room. Maisie tried to call up her courage as she crossed the hall ; she reminded herself that it was her place to welcome this young foreigner ; but she felt shyer than ever when she found herself sitting on the sofa beside Drusilla. She could not take her eyes from the lovely creature. Maisie thought tliat Miss Lescure looked as sweet and inno- cent as a child, there was such a serene wonder in her eyes. This wonder was real. Drusilla could not understand how a lady — for she felt that Maisie was a lady — could dress so simply, and be so entirely unassuming. She con- sidered these were serious failings, and she decided that she need not fear Maisie as a rival, either with Mr. Yardon or wiih Mr. Stanmore. She found Miss Derrick hand- MAISIE ^ ^RRJCK, 87 somer than she expected. "She has ii fine figure, too, if she would only squeeze her waist in," Drusilla ^Sought, and she found herself very near envying the rich urown, wavy locks which made such a contrast to her own golden frizzle. They began to talk, and as Maisie shrank from talking about herself, she soon became deeply interested in Dru- silla*s account of her journey. She looked at the girl's black gown, but she did not like to ask why she wore it. Drusilla understood Maisic's wistful glance, and said abruptly, — " I am in mourning for my mother." Maisie leaned forward and kissed her ; she felt that there was a link between her and this beautiful stranger. ** I know what that loss is," she said, tenderly, " it seems tho worst grief that anyone can have." A sort of wonder at herself flitted across Drusilla's thoughts. She seldom indulged in self-questioning about the past, feeling sure of being in the right ; her point of view being that success and the right were one. With her, reflection and speculation were always directed to the future, and to the best methods of avoiding failure in her purposes. It was, therefore, like the revelations of a new self, to see in the light cast by Maisie's words that she had not been conscious of an over-powering grief. She felt, however, that it was better to assume what was expected of her ; she had already determined to have Maisie on her side, as she expressed it, and she accepted her offered sympathy as if she needed it. "Yes," she sighed, " I miss her very much." She was speaking the truth. She had often wished for her mother's advice since she had been at Yardon. She enjoyed her freedom from restraint, and from the taunts to which she had been accustomed, but she was well aware that those very taunts had stung into her lessons of reti- cence and of worldly wisdom which helped her every day. " Was she ill long ? " Maisie said, softly. Ir' . M \h\ 11 I I Hi ^^^ll h IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) 1.0 I.I 1^ ■50 |Z8 |2^ IM 12.2 i Ui lit 1.25 |||.4 * Hill 6" - ► Photographic Sciences Corporation 33 WIST MAIN STRUT WnSTM.N.Y. 14SI0 (716) •72-4S03 ^>' '^ V 4 /i ^ 88 MAISIE DERRICK, m 1: Drusilla turned away — there was a limit to grief. " She was always ill. *I — I — would rather not talk about it." Maisie sighed ; she was very sorry for the poor semi- foreign gjrl ; she sighed, too, a little over her own hasty judgment. She had really thought, at first, that Drusilla was not sorrowful enough, and all the while the poor thing was feeling her mother's loss too deeply to talk about it. " I have been spoiled at Ailthorpe," Maisie thought. " I believe, after all, Yardon is the wholesomest place for me." It seemed to her it would be better in every way, now that she had this interesting companion to occupy herself with. Till Maisie Derrick came to Yardon, she had never found time or inclination to think about herself or her feelings ; but, except the few rare occasions when he had asked her to copy out a passage from one of his old books, her grandHuiier had made her feel that she was useless to him. He preferred that all household details should be regulated by his housekeeper, and Maisie had been glad to take to cottage-visiting as a means of occupation. But for her village friends and her love for gardening, time would have hung heavily, and for this reason she had found winter depressing, because she could not transi)lant and watch over her seedlings as she could in the time of growth. She looked tenderly at Drusilla, and resolved to make the motherless girl's life as pleasant as she could. This idea of protection gave Maisie a sudden courage which beauti- fied her. Drusilla, meantime, was watching her with secret amuse- ment. ** She is strange," she thought. "I am not sure that mother would have called her a lady— she shows such tenderness in her eyes ; and mother said that ladies, real ones, never let their feelings be known. They are beautiful eyes," she thought critically, and almost in spite of herself, for Drusilla was not enthusiastic about female beauty. ** Perhaps she knows that her eyes look hand- She u MAISIE DERRICK. 89 somer when she puts feeling in them," her thoughts added. " I suppose you speak French easily ? " Maisie said. Drusilla smiled bewitchingly. " I spoke English with my mother, but I was born in France and I have always lived there, so French is my native tongue." " Your name is j'iot English ? " "No." Drusilla drew her delicate eyebrows together and compressed her lips. Maisie had touched on her secret trouble. She had often puzzled over her name, when her mother had once said that her father had English relations ; but the revelation that had come to her when she found the locket had been a bitter trial ; it had made the girl believe that she had no right to her father's name. This memory, obscured by the sudden changes in her monotonous life, had returned in the quiet of Yardon, and now Maisie's words seemed to her prompted by a secret knowledge, and Drusilla looked at her with suspicion. Maisie was wholly unconscious of the effect her words had produced. " I wonder if I can muster courage to talk French with you," she said ; " it would be such a help to me." " Would it ? I thought you knew everything ; a friend of yours tells me yoa are quite learned." Maisie wondered whether the friend was Mr. Stanmore or her grandfather ; her face flushed and her eyes drooped as Drusilla looked at her. " Do you play any instrument or sing ? " said the French girl. ** I do both for my own amusement, but you must please not ask me either to play or to sing before my grandfather," " Why not ? I try to amuse him ; I play my guitar and I sing and he is never tired of listening to me. I dance, too — queer, old-fashioned dances I have seen the peasants dance in France, and Mr. Yardon claps his hands with .fill . ■'. 1 ■ ' I III %m "\' 'j lif ! I 90 MAISIE DERRICK, t delight when I dance and sing patois songs. He says I am very accomplished, so I suppose I am." Maisie felt amused, and yet a little uneasy. ** Do you like reading? " she said. Drusilla shook her head. ** My mother would not let me read her books, she said the amusing ones were not fit for girls ; and the nuns* books were so dull — all about children or good people, or things that never really happened. I tried to read a book on the journey here, a French novel — that amused me, but Mr. Ray was vexed when he fqund me reading it, and he took it away, I believe, for I could not find it when we reached England. What do you do to amuse yourself, Miss Derrick ? " she said, abruptly. " Please call me Maisie." The girl wondered whether her amusements would suit this lively creature who loved singing and dancing and reading French novels. " I garden a good deal," she said, simply, "and I take walks, and — '' she hesitated, for Drusilla's eyes were searching her face with a suspicious expression, checked, however, as soon as she saw that it was observed, — " I go and see a few poor people in thi village." " Why do you do that ? If a rich lady had come — I mean if I were poor and a lady came prying into my house, I should shut the door against her." Maisie laughed. " I do not go to pry," she said, "and I only go where help is wanted. One old woman is blind and has no one to read to her, and there are several mothers who have delicate health and a good many young children.'* " I do not see how you can care for it, or help them," Drusilla said scornfully. " Poor people are dirty, and children are horrid little things, and their hands are always sticky. I expect they spoil your gowns." " I wear gowns that won't spoil, but if you like you can help these children without even going to see them. I am sure you would make much nicer frocks than I can." MAISIE DERRICK. 91 Drusilla's face flushed ; her large dark eyes looked very hard. " I make frocks ! " she said, harshly ; " you are quite mistaken. I never made a child's frock in my life. I asked you how you amused yourself I hope you don't consider that sort of thing amusing. My goodness, no." She shrugged her graceful shoulders, and her lip curled. Maisie laughed. "Oh, I daresay we shall be able to amuse ourselves in other ways. Will you come with me now and call at the Vicarage ? " Drusilla was vexed at her own want of self-control ; the lady she had seen in the Paris shop would not have let anyone see that she was ruffled, she felt sure of that, and she forced herself to smile back at Maisie. " No ; thank you ! I am sure, from what he has said, that Mr. Vernon admires you, so I should only be in the way, and I do not care for Miss Auricula. She thinks she is queen of Figgsmarsh." She imitated Miss Vernon's way of holding her head so exactly, yet so absurdly, that Maisie could not help laughing. " Good-bye, then," she said, " I shall be back in less than an hour, but I promised to give the vicar Miss Savvay's message directly I reached home." " You are too dutiful to live," Drusilla called after her as she went away. Her mocking tone jarred Maisie. " I was foolish to say anything about the poor people," she said. " If I wish to make her life pleasant, I must not try to make her like what I do. Drusilla is, perhaps, more useful than I am, though she makes no show of it. She is, indeed, a sweet girl." And when, half-an-hour later, Maisie went down hill to the Vicarage, her heart beat faster with the hope that she might meet Mr. Stanmore. Drusilla, meantime, was carefully studying herself in one of the long glasses between the drawing-room windows. ■ r » I m m % ■ i'< ■I'l rii 92 MAISIE DERRICK. She smiled at the sight of her own beauty. She went upstairs and fetched a large, coarse straw hat which she had bought in the village, and she stood bending it with a dextrous grace into a form that exactly suited her. Then she gave each delicate cheek a slight pinch. *' Poor Maisie, she is as easy to see through as a bit of glass. I wish I had the lovely color she gets when she flushes. She looked so handsome just now, that I was glad Mr. Stanmore did not see her. Still he would not look at me as he does if he cared for Maisie. I wish she had not come back just yet. People should not return before they are wanted. She looked at her watch. She was expecting Luke Stan- more, but she had thought it unnecessary to say so to Maisie. MAISIE DERRICK, 93 CHAPTER XIII. Maisie went down hill with a springy step and that buoy- ant feeling of lightness, both in body and spirit, which makes a very near approach to happiness so far as happi- ness can be found in mere sensation. She was even joyful. She was sure that she should have a delightful companion — for the girl liked the give and take of human inter- course far better than a constant acquiescence in her own ideas. She enjoyed, too, the invigoration of going back to the daily routine of life. She was on her way to see an old friend in the village, and then she was bound for the Vicarage. Maisie had a keen sense of humor and Miss Auricula's superior manner amused her far more than it vexed her. " Poor woman," she said, as she passed the trim gate on her way down the lane, " she has always had to associate with untaught people, and her own superior knowledge has become a fixed idea ; she cannot, perhaps, change her manner when she is among her equals." Maisie turned to the right when she reached the bottom of the lane ; she did not see that Mrs. Greig was peeping at her from behind her lodger's curtains. Mrs. Greig told herself that Miss Derrick had probably picked up another sweetheart while she was away, she looked so completely free from care. The blacksmith was not sitting at the half-open door of his cottage, but Harriet Foxley came out and gave a half-sulky nod in answer to Maisie's smiling greeting. Har- riet's left shoulder was so near her ear that anyone of her associates would have known at once that she was in a temper. If 'iip I :iii f r ii I'll ■ it j ijj ill 51 94 MAISIE DERRICK, " Is your father quite well, Harriet ? " ** Yes, ma'am." Harriet saw that Miss Derrick lingered as if she would come in, and coming more forward she filled the doorway with her ample brown skirt and black apron. In the fuller light, Harriet's hair looked the color of red gravel against her dull yellow face. She stared hard at Miss Derrick, and Maisie fancied there was an expression of dislike in the woman's large pale blue eyes. " Father's not in, ma'am," Harriet said slowly, " he's gone up to the Hall. Summat's amiss with the mare's foot, Miss Lescure's mare." She stopped and Maisie felt restless under her steady stare. Harriet had avoided her for the past winter, and Maisie had felt more at ease with the genial old black- smith in his silent daughter's absence. Miss Derrick nodded farewell to Harriet, and was turn- ing back towards the lane : "Ain't she a beauty?" Harriet said abruptly, and she pointed in the direction of the Hall. Maisie was surprised at this attempt at conversation. Some people said Harriet was only " half-saved," but, in spite of her trustful spirit, Maisie had the divining instincts which detects antipathy as quickly as it feels liking, and she had attributed the large pale woman's avoidance to dislike of her own visits to the blacksmith't cottage. ** Yes, Miss Lescure is very beautiful," she answered. Harriet scarcely waited for her to finish. " Yes, and there others that think the same. There's a gentleman as lives not so far off, neither, as loves the very ground the foreign lady walks on — it's he as came after father maybe half an hour ago, and now he's gone across the meadows to find him. Mr. Stanmore was in a taking about that mare." Maisie had turned her head away before the words were all said. MAISIE DERRICK, 95 ** Good-bye, Harriet ; tell your father I am sorry to have missed him." Miss Derrick felt bewildered as she went on towards the lane. Something was urging her to go back to the Hall. Even when she reached the Vicarage she longed to pass it by. She stood still and smiled at her own fancies. She had come out chiefly to deliver Miss Savvay's message to the vicar, it would be absurd not to leave it. She needn't pay a long visit. The vicar was not at home, and Maisie was obliged to go in to see Miss Auricula. A tall stiff-figured woman of doubtful age, with auburn hair curling over her forehead and faint colored blue eyes. Something in the face suggested a derived beauty, possibly from a handsome grandmother ; beauty which had become faded in transmission, although its owner believed in its existence, and valued herself extremely on the possession of a hectic complexion and a high-bridged nose. " You left Miss Savvay well, I hope," she said graciously. Maisie Derrick had taken a higher place in Miss Auri- cula's opinion since she had discovered the girl's friendly relations with Captain Wentworth's aunt. The young vicar's devotion to Maisie was a constant vexation to Auricula Vernon. Miss Derrick was Mr. Yardon's grand- daughter ; but that was not much, and she was not a great favorite with him. Besides, Mr. Yardon was not so very old, he was young enough to marry again, and then where would be Miss Derrick's prospects ? Miss Auricula considered that Maisie was ordinary ; she was not plain nor awkward, but she was much too retiring and simple to get on in society, and society meant Heaven to Miss Vernon, who had spent her life in a country vil- lage clinging to the fringe of notice accorded by her titled neighbors. Miss Auricula did not wish her brother to marry, because she liked to rule at the Vicarage ; she fancied she ruled Figgsmarsh also, but Figgsmarsh thought im \- 11 i \ ii 1 it I -"') ^/!; ' ^:ii : Mm ' 96 MAISIE DERRICK. differently. Still, if Charles found it necessary to have a wife, she told herself that he must choose some one who would sympathise with his sister and accept her as a per- manent institution in the Vicarage. Miss Auricula felt that she could tolerate a really beautiful creature like Drusilla Lescure. Her style and manner seemed perfect to Miss Vernon, that was a girl who would make her way anywhere, and who would be an ornament wherever she went. Miss Auricula was so curious to discover Maisie's opinion of Mr. Yardon's ward that she hardly had patience to listen to Miss Savvay's message, although at another time she would have been delighted to learn that Maisie's friend had decided to shut up her own house and take up her abode during the autumn with her nephew. " I feel so happy about it," Maisie said. Miss Auricula looked at her keenly. ** I wonder what Captain Wentworth will think of your visitor," she said. "Is she not beautiful; she seems already to have turned the heads of all the men in Figgs- marsh. I tell my brother that he has Miss Lescure on the brain." " She is very beautiful," Maisie said, ''and she is very bright and pleasant." Miss Auricula nodded and smiled. She had a high voice and rather a gushing manner. • " My dear, you should only hear the men about her. They simply worship her. I suppose Captain Wentworth will be as devoted as any of the others. As to your friend, Mr. Stanmore, he spends half his time with her, and is quite fascinated. They look such a handsome pair riding together." Maisie did not betray herself; she was always on guard with Miss Auricula, who had a way of saying spiteful things with the best intentions for the moral good of her listener. The girl waited even while Miss Vernon dilated MAISIE DERRICK. 97 on the great advantage that would accrue to the neighbor- hood from the presence of Captain Wentworth at the Manor House, ^hen the lady paused for breath, Maisie rose and took leave. Miss Vernon came with her to the door, and then, having watched Maisie to the gate, she straightened her flat back till it looked hollow, and she wondered, as she returned to her tasteless drawing-room, what attraction so likely a young fellow as Mr. Stanmore could find in Maisie Derrick. Meanwhile, the girl was going up the hill at a pace that soon made her stop to take breath — but the rapid move- ment helped her spirits, and when she reached the gate her eyes and her cheeks glowed with health. " Has my grandfather come in ? " Maisie asked when the door was opened. *' No, ma'am," Warren said. Maisie was a favorite with the household, and the man thought that his m.^ter might have stayed in to welcome Miss Derrick ; he had a shrewd suspicion that she had not been fairly used, and he con- sidered himself a philanthropist. He fumbled over the closing of the door while the girl crossed the hall ; then he said abruptly, as she turned to go into the drawing- room, " Miss Lescure's in the garden, ma'am, with Mr. Stan- more." Maisie's heart gave a bound. She did not stop to think. She crossed the room, and went out by one of the long, open windows. The fresh air cooled her hot face. She looked across the lawn, but she could not see either Dru- silla or Mr, Stanmore. The lawn sloped on for some distance to a sunk fence which divided it from a large meadow planted with trees. Maisie walked down to the the ha-ha, and shaded her eyes as she looked along a path that slanted across the meadow^ till it reached a clump of trees. ;■ i ( I Aw m '■! H li MAisiE derrick: . While she stood looking, Drusilla came out from behind the trees, and up the path homewards. She walked slowly, with her eyes bent on the ground. Maisie walked on to some steps at the end of the sunk fence, and then went forward along the field-path. Drusilla gave a little start when she saw her. ** So you have come back," she said gaily, " I knew you would not be long, and I told Mr. Stanmore so, but he said he could not wait." She said this glibly, as if she knew it by heart, but Maisie was looking at her with such a searching, direct glance, that Drusilla's eyes drooped ; she seemed unable to bear the truth that shone in her companion's face. She looked up again almost directly, with a curious, questioning expression. " I told him it was unkind ; because I knew you two were old friends," she said — " I don't care about him, you know." Maisie felt a sudden distrust. Nothing had happened to change her opinion of Drusilla, and yet she felt almost dislike to the lovely, graceful girl ; she scarcely knew how to answer. " Yes, we are very good friends," she said, gravely. Drusilla came up to her and pinched her cheek. " You are a little angry with me, Maisie, dear, but it is not just of you. I do not care for Mr. Stanmore ; I do not want to rob you of his friendship. I told him, more than once, that he ought to wait and see his old friend, but he went off just as if I had not spoken. Do not be vexed, dear — I daresay we shall see him to-morrow ; he comes here so often j he doctors my horse, you know, and he teaches me how to ride. I really find him useful, though I do not care a bit for him." She was surprised by Maisie's coolness. She had made up her mind that there had been something between her MA IS IE DERRICK. 99 and Mr. Stanmore. Maisie had flushed, and for an instant she had seemed perplexed, but when Drusilla ended she was calm. " Do you like riding ? " she said. Drusilla made a grimace. ** No, I am afraid of the horse, and if I fell off I might be hurt, but I like being taught to ride, and Mr. Stanmore is very kind. I shall never care to ride without him. Will you take a walk now, Maisie ? I will go v/herever you like," she said, in her most winning tone. ** No, thank you," Maisie said, decidedly. ** I am very tired. I think I will keep quiet till dinner-time." " She is vexed, although she won't show, it," the French girl thought. " Dear Maisie," she said, caressingly ; " Come to my room and I will show you the gown I bought in Paris. The woman said it was the dressiest thing she had." " I'm afraid I can't come to-day." Maisie spoke bluntly ; she felt sorely wounded, and she wanted to be alone. Mr. Stanmore's avoidance seemed so extraordinary, so slighting, that she could hardly keep from tears. She could not cry before Drusilla, or allow her a glimpse of her feelings on the subject. She had not known how proud she was till the French girl asked her not to be angry." " Why should I be angry with her ? " Maisie asked herself when she reached her room, " and yet I am — very — very angry. She has no delicacy — no feeling either. I am afraid she is not true. Oh, how could I think she was nice, just because she is so lovely ? " ,\n \ , I I ! 100 MAISIE DERRICK, CHAPTER XIV. Four days had gone by and Mr. Stanmore had not come up to the Hall. At first Maisie felt glad that he stayed away. She was trying to convince herself that she had mistaken his feelings for her, and she was ashamed of the ideas she had cherished. It was comforting to know that she had kept her secret j Miss Savvay might have guessed, but then Miss Savvay was so entirely sympathetic that she had probably shared Maisie's error. But Maisie was too real to succeed in this effort to con- vince herself that she had mistaken Mr. Stanmore. She could not forget his looks and his manner during that last meeting, and as she allowed herself to dwell on them her spirits rose. She became conscious of injustice towards him; yes, she had been unjust and jealous also, and it was only natural that he should admire so beautiful a creature as Drusilla. Maisie's meeting with her grandfather had been formal, and she was now even more timid with the strange old man as she saw the fascination which Drusilla exercised over him. The French girl teased him, laughed at him, clapped her hands gaily if he spoke crossly, it seemed to Maisie that the lovely girl had a weird and uncanny influence, for Mr. Yardon always spoke more harshly to Maisie when he turned to her from her bewitching companion. In some ways it was pleasant to have Drusilla to talk to, but Maisie knew that she preferred the old life to the keen mortifications which seemed to come to her through Miss Lescure. Maisie had always arranged the flowers for the table, and she did it fairly well, but the day after her return MAISIE DERRICK. lOl i. *:;■;! Mr. Yardon told her she had better give up this duty. " Miss Lescure has a natural talent for such trifles," he said, " you had b n*^*" leave them to her " Maisie was obliged to own that when Drusilla chose to exert it she had the singular deftness which makes the best out of everything it touches, but then Drusilla rarely chose to do anything except to please herself. Maisie felt uneasy, she repeated that she was jealous and mean, she was fully susceptible of the French girl's strange power of fascination. It was the consciousness of this power that made Maisie at times dread the effect it might have had on Mr. Stanmore. And yet with the wayward contradiction of love, the girl blamed herself for her doubts and her impatience, — oh, yes, he would come, and she should see the same love in his eyes that had been there when they parted. On this fourth afternoon Drusilla slipped out by herself, she was going to the Vicarage and she did not want Maisie's company. She went leisurely down thelane, her fair flower-like face in dazzling contrast with the dark folds of her gown and her black broad-leafed hat. Stanmore was coming up from the village, and as he saw her he longed to have her picture as she moved out of the shade into the sunshine, and then again passed under the crossing branches that almost held their own against the golden light above their leafage. Drusilla did not seem to see him. He pulled off his hat and she gave him a lovely smile. " Are you going to the Hall ? " she said, saucily. " Yes ; I was on my way there." His eyes were fixed on her face, and she smiled again and looked away. " I am going to the Vicarage," she said carelessly. ** You'll not be long." He gave her a jealous look, he could not bear to lose a moment of the time he had counted on being with her. ,-(sX\ :l \ a \ '■ iJ ■ Vi 102 MAISIE DERRICK. Drusilla smiled slowly till her whole face beamed with amusement. " You have forgotten something, Mr. Stanmore, you will not miss me to-day, you will have Maisie Derrick." " I want you," he said impatiently. She gave her little silvery laugh, and shook her head. ** What ! is not one enough ? Well, you have got to be good and patient and, perhaps, I'll come. Oh I but," she pursed up her lips as she looked into his eyes, " I have such a secret, my guardian told me this morning — you must not tell, not even your friend Maisie — it is to be a surprise for her. Mr. Yardon heard from Miss Savvay this morning, and she says Captain Wentworth is coming to the Manor House in less than a week and she is coming with him. I am so delighted." Mr. Stanmore did not look pleased, she saw he was frowning at her. " Why should you be delighted," he said, " you do not know either Miss Savvay or her nephew, they are nothing to you ? " Drusilla clapped her hands. " Fancy saying that much to me, why new things are nicer than old ones. I have been simply dying for a little variety ; can't you imagine what it will be to me to see a real English captain. I have made up my mind to adore Captain Wentworth — a soldier and a gentleman — why, what more can a man be ? " Stanmore looked so very angry that she stopped. *' Now you are angry ; please forgive me." She was penitent and ashamed he thought " I love to tease so much that, I suppose, I have talked nonsense, it was your fault though. You provoked me by looking cross. Don't try to stop me, I must go, — good- bye ? " She nodded and hurried by him like a flash of light, her bright eyes and small mouth smilling a "good-bye " as she MAISIE DERRICK. 103 passed. Stanmore could hardly keep himself from follow- ing her, as he looked after her. He had resolved that morning to go up and see Maisie Derrick ; he told himself he had never said a word to her beyond the limits of friend- ship, but she had a right to expect him to go and see her. A half resolve had come as he had left home to —main pas- sive and to see the effect produced on him by this renewal of friendship ; he was haunted by a dim suspicion that a glamor had been cast on him of late, an enchantment which might prove itself fleeting and unreal under the stedfast eyes in which he had read only a few weeks ago such sweetness and such truth. As he climbed the hill, this resolve had gained strength, and then he had met Brasilia Lescure, and she had again bewitched him. He had never thought her so charming ; but, indeed, every time he saw her, she revealed some new power of attraction. Drusilla's singular quickness andher gift of acquisitiveness had made her profit largely by her intercourse with Mr. Yardon and also with Maisie. To-day Stanmore had found her irresistible, and her news had turned the young man's thoughts into a new direction. The idea of seeing Maisie was obscured by the dread of the advent of the captain. Stanmore had plenty of self-reliance in regard to his profession, his readiness to grasp the opportunities of life ; but he had little personal conceit, in his own eyes he con? sidered he should have no chance with Drusilla beside a soldier. He went up the last bit of the hill moodily, with his eyes bent on the ground, he did not sec that he had reached the gate, and he started at the sound of Mr. Yardon's voice. The old man smiled as he stood at the gate. *' What has been the matter, man," he said, "you have made yourself so scarce that I thought you were away from the village ? " Wi W'M |i 1 1 i' ? >: H! 1 1:1 m 1 It ^ 1, i'. " J'ts I'* - 104 MAISIE DERRICK, " I have been meaning to come up to see Miss Derrick," Stanmore said gravely, and then he hesitated and grew con- fused under the malicious expression in his companion's eyes. ** Ah ! *' Mr. Yardon seemed amused. " Did you meet my ward just now ? " " Yes, I met her ; " and then the young fellow added, "I hear you are going to have a neighbor at last at the Manor House." ** Yes," Mr. Yardon said slowly. " I fancy Captain Wentworth will soon find his way here, he wont shilly- shally mind you. I told Miss Lescure this morning that she will soon have him sighing for her? " ** He ! " said Stanmore sharply, ** why he is, I understand, an invalid ; a man with a broken constitution and a mort- gaged estate, he cannot think of marrying." Mr. Yardon laughed and opened the gate. " Come in," he said, " remember the dog in the manger Stanmore ; and what's this proverb " he who will not when he may," — you know how it ends ? go your ways, young man — go your ways, even to please you. I cannot shut my doors against Captain Wentworth ? " They had reached the hall door, and Mr. Yardon waived his hand towards it, but Stanmore drew back. " I shall find Miss Derrick in the garden," he said, and, without waiting, he passed through an opening in the shrubbery on the right to a winding path that led to the lawn. He had caught a glimpse of a white gown among the shrubs while he listened angrily to Mr. Yardon, and he was glad of this excuse for leaving him. Stanmore found Maisie walking up and down the path below the drawing- room windows. She turned at the sound of footsteps, and a glad, happy look showed on her face when she saw him. Stanmore held her hand an instant wjiile he asked how she was and how she had enjoyed her visit ; but even in MA2SIE DERRICK, los : \ that brief time Maisie missed something from his smile, and from his eyes, and the next minute as he dropped her hand he looked grave. He wished he had not exposed himself to this trial. There was no change in Maisie, and yet he felt a sharp pain at his heart, he asked himself if this girl's eyes had always held that deep look of love when they met his. He thought that he could not have forgotten it if he had seen it there. He walked beside her in a trouble that felt like remorse, for he could only pity her ; she was as sweet, as stedfast as ever, but his pulses did not quicken as he looked at her, she was his dear friend, his sister, that was all. The trouble he felt was for her. Maisie broke the silence by asking " if the railway line was progressing to his satisfaction." She looked so calm as she spoke that Stanmore felt relieved. He thought he had, perhaps, mistaken the pleasant glow of friendship for a warmer feeling. "I am a coxcomb after all," he said, and it was a great relief to accept the conviction " I hope you left Miss Savvay well ? " he said. Maisie's face brightened. " Yes, thank you, and she thinks she may spend this autumn at the Manor House. Will not that be pleasant for me?" she said, smiling. '* I suppose so." Then urged by something stronger than his own will which had determined to avoid this topic, he added nervously, " but you are not as lonely as you used to be ? " Maisie's face changed as he spoke, he fancied she raised her head a little stiffly, and she looked directly into his eyes. ** You mean I have Miss Lescure for a companion, she is very bright, but Miss Savvay is such a dear old friend."* Stanmore winced, it seemed as if the words were meant purposely for him. 11 Mr! ^l if W:% m [i;;! io6 MAISIE DERRICK. 1*1 j " I fancied," he said indifferently, " that you would have preferred a companion of your own age ? " Maisie gave him a quick impatient glance. He was not looking at her but in the direction of the lane, though the shrubbery that bordered the lane and the tall trees beyond them intercepted any direct view of it. The girl's spirit rose, she had done nothing to cause his changed manner, and his evident indifference towards her made her rebellious against his implied advice. " I have often told you I am old-fashiohed," she said coldly. ** There are certainly a good many years between Miss Savvay and me ; but, I fancy, we were brought up in the same ways and habits when we were children. Miss Lescure is a foreigner, and — and there can never be the same sympathy between us." Stanmore knew very well the meaning of her words, and it irritated him the more because of the slight absence of refinement he had now and then observed in Drusilla. He said very coldly : — " I should have fancied you would be superior to a mere national prejudice " Maisie flushed with vexation, something warned her to be silent or else to make a soothing answer, but she would not listen to the warning. ** I suppose we all like to choose our own friends," she said. '' I cannot put aside a friend just to set a new one in her place." They had reached the edge of the sunk fence at the far end of the lawn. A little summer house stood at the cor- ner facing towards the park-like meadow beyond. They turned and came back in silence, neither of them looked at the other, Stanmore bent his head ; Maisie's words had been too full of suggestion to be answered. He was more angry with himself than with his companion, but he was pained that she could stoop to reproach. Ir-^ I MAJSIE DERRICK. 107 She felt as if she must hurry away and hide herself from Stanmore and from every one. The words had scarcely been spoken before she saw the meaning her companion might find in them. She had been angry with him for insisting that she should make a friend of Drusilla, and he would understand that she meant to reproach him for his inconstancy. She could not speak, she was too much crushed even to find a pretext for leaving her companion. She walked on in dumb misery till they had again reached the broad raised walk below the drawing-room windows. - i ■ :; 'i ■ ' 1 ' 1 4 ► ••'1 .' ."'.''jii- t I . m '■■'' I \ 1 i'-f' ':■.,■ io8 MAISIE DERRICK. \t \ 1,1 CHAPTER XV. Warren came round the angle of the house which was marked by the shrubberies through which Stanmore had passed to join Maisie on the lawn. The stolid-faced butler was watching* what he v/as pleased to call " the game," with intense interest — he and all the other servants greatly preferred Miss Derrick to Miss Les- cure, but they also preferred their interests to their likings, and it was easy to see which of the two young ladies ruled Mr. Yardon. Warren's bow was extra deferential. " Mr. Yardon wishes to speak to you ma'am," he waited as if to follow Miss Derrick to the house. " I will say good-bye for thepresent ; " Maisie said in a timid voice. Stanmore held out his hand. " Good-bye," but he spoke unwillingly ; he was already scrry for the jar that he knew he had caused, a few more words might have set it right, and yet he could hardly bring himself to ask Maisie to come back to him. " I will wait a little while," he said. As soon as Maisie had disappeared into the shrubbery Warren came back to Mr. Stanmore. " I was to say, sir,*' he said pompously, " that if you are not in a particular hurry, Mr. Yardon will be glad if you'll wait here for him, sir." " Very well," Stanmore said. He frowned as the man left him, he was ashamed of his hope that by waiting he might again see Drusilla. This hope had been very present when he reached the gate — now it seemed a sort of insult to Maisie's vexation. MAISIE DERRICK, 109 " They do not like one another that is plain," he said. He remembered with satisfaction that Mr, Yardon's study was in the front of the house. If Drusilla joined him there would be no one to watch their meeting. Maisie had gone straight to the study and she sat there still, she was feeling greatly puzzled. . It was so incomprehensible that a practical man like her grandfather could send for her when she was engaged with a visitor just to discuss a household matter of no present moment, and even when he had told her his wishes about getting a boy from the village to serve as under-gardener, he kept her chatting a*^ out trifles. He was, however, singularly gracious, he even seemed to be enjoying his talk. Maisie felt that her attention wandered, already she was sorry for the vexation she had shown in the garden, and she resolved if possible to see Mr. Stanmore again and try to efface the impression she feared he had received. But lime was passing, it was possible that he had grown tired of waiting. Maisie had become feverish with impatience when there came a pause in Mr. Yardon's talk ; he was looking at her very intently but with a doubtful curious expression. " I will go now grandfather," the girl rose as she spoke. " I was talking to Mr. Stanmore when you sent for me and I want to go back ; he said he would wait." A smile passed across her grandfather's face but it left a bitterness behind it. Maisie shrank under his glance, she felt scared like a spring leaf by the breath of the east wind. " Exactly so," Mr. Yardon said, ** I knew perfectly well, Maisie, who was your companion when I sent for you, but Stanmore does not come to see you, my girl, you did very well when there was no one else, but this is a different matter, he has found metal more attractive here of late. M !'■ ■■;A I 1: 1 . i ^'1 , 1 1 \ m U '^■ no MAISIE DERRICK, Sit you down again, if you go back now you will, I think, find yourself one too many for the situation." Maisie reddened to the roots ofher hair, and for the first time Mr. Yardon saw a flash of angry light in her eyes. This gratified him, he was pleased to find that she had a spirit, it gave his pugnacious nature something to fight with. He threw his head back and looked at her critically, on the whole he thought she was a fine young woman with that bright color on her cheeks and that glow of light in her eyes. " I do not understand you — " Maisie was no longer shy, she spoke with some heat, he was her grandfather but she felt that he had no right to sit enjoying her confusion. " I will explain if you will have the goodness to sit down and listen." Maisie could not help wincing at the sarcasm in his voice. " I should have fancied my meaning was clear enough to an unprejudiced listener, but there seem- ingly we differ. During your absence my young friend Stanmore has become attached to Miss Lescure. They see each other constantly, and I fancy the liking is mutual. You were placed with your back to the window and, there- fore, you did not see Drusilla ccm^ in just now. I did and she has turned into the shrubber/ walk. I ask you, Maisie, what claim have you to disturb a meeting between these two ? " " Do you mean me to understand that Mr. Stanmore is engaged to her ? " Maisie spoke in a dull hard voice. She was thinking of the way in which she had just now spoken of Drusilla. Mr. Yardon paused, he had kept his eyes fixed on her face and he was surprised by its calmness, he began to respect his granddaughter more than he could have thought possible. Maisie's shyness and constraint towards him had made him consider her nervous, and a nervous woman MAISIE DERRICK. Ill was to Mr. Yardon an excitable mysterical creature, the slave of impulse and emotion. It did not occur to him that Maisie Derrick might be quite another person in a congenial and sympathetic atmosphere ; it may be that his lack of imagination made him incapable of sympathy with needs of which he had no practical experience — and it may be also that part of his dislike to his grandchild arose from the difficulty he had found in understanding her, she did not fit his theory of what a woman was sure to do, say and think in such and such circumstances — there- fore there was something wrong about her as a woman ; the fecHng of respect that she had now created was not yielded to the woman but to that which he considered a masculine firmness in repressing the natural feelings of her sex. His heart did not warm towards her but his judgment appreciated her behavior. " I have no reason to suppose that either Mr. Stanmore or my ward would take so decided a step without appris- ing me that they had done so," he said very formally — *' but," he went on in a more genial voice, " I should say it might come to pass any day, and I for one am ready to give a hearty consent to such a well-assorted marriage." • Maisie did not grow pale, the strong constraint she was putting on herself kept the color flaming on her cheeks, and Mr. Yardon's last words had in one way relieved her. Her own nature was too noble to believe that her grand- father could continue to speak in this way if he really guessed the pain he was inflicting. A strange resolute feeling was taking possession of the girl. Mr. Stanmore had changed, but she had not thought he loved Drusilla, it was possible, nay it was evident, that her grandfather wished for this marriage and that he would do his best to bring it about ; but that did not prove that it would make Stanmore and Drusilla happy. Maisie saw in the man . .: I ^ 1 ,r ! *, iia MAISIE DERRICK. m the ideal she loved — the ideal to whom she felt herself so inferior, she seemed to know by a sure insight that when the first glamor was past Stanmore would be miserable with this French girl. The old power — the power of the touch of an angelic spear seems to live again in a pure and truthful nature, a nature that does not easily suspect, yet, which if it realizes that its trust is deceived, sees at once the flimsy veils of falsehood, they are no hindrance to its direct vision. While Mr. Yardon spoke of this attachment, Maisie re- membered the slighting terms in which Drusilla had spoken — and her assertion that she did not care for him — of Mr. Stanmore — there was falsehood somewhere. Maisie decided and it might not be too late to remedy it. She had no hope of regaining Stanmore's love, she doubted whether she had ever had it, but she loved him still and she would try to save him from being deceived. She looked steadily at Mr. Yardon. " If they are not engaged," she said, ** I do not mind disturbing them for a moment, I said I would go back." She went to the door, opened it and closed it behind her before her grandfather had recovered from his surprise. • When he did — he also went to the door and followed Maisie. He went slowly however ; his grim sense of humor told him that there might be something amusing to witness if he gave the scene time for development. m I •ili MAIS2E DERRICK. "3 CHAPTER XVI. Those minutes which had seemed to Maisie so long and wearisome had been passing at double-winged speed to the young pair in the garden. When Maisie left him Mr. Stanmore had longed to recall her, he seemed to think of so much that he wanted to say, and he also wished to speak more kindly to undo, if that were possible, some of the vexation which he was conscious of having caused. He was sure that Maisie had not meant to give him pain, she did not know his feelings for Drusilla, and she had spoken as to an old friend of a new acquaintance. As Mr. Stanmore reflected, a smile spread over his face, he very much doubted whether Drusilla would have spoken of his frequent visits to her or of her meetings with him on the common. He turned at the end of the walk and saw Drusilla's tall graceful figure and the large drooping black hat coming from the shrubbery. She smiled as she came forward a few steps. Then she stood still and he joined her, she looked even lovelier than usual for she had a tinge of color and her eyes were full of expression. " You look," he said as he hurried up to her, " as if you had had some pleasant adventure or had heard some pleasant news, may I not hear what it is ? " Her eyes were mischievous as she fixed them on him. " You seem to take it for granted that what is pleasant to me will please you also — I on the contrary am not so sure about it, you will perhaps be crosser than you were in the lane," she shook her head and her lips seemed to mock him. 8 I, II !? - :'■ if I- 1. ;; m 114 MAISIE DERRICK. I: 'X' ** But you will tell me for all that," he said impulsively, then moved out of himself by the arch beauty, that seemed to defy him to resist its power, I claim a right to share your joys and your griefs too — if you ever had any," he added in a more doubtful tone. They had turned the angle of the lawn near the house, and, going up the flower-bordered path beside it, had nearly reached the summer-house at its further corner. " You English make so much fuss about everything," Drusilla had apparently forgotten her companion she was looking at the flower-border gay with the spring darlings of the year. ** They make a fuss about those little flowers, and yet long before I came here we had them and finer ones too growing in the valleys near us without any care or trouble." Stanmore thought she was adorable, so fresh and inno- cent. " I agree with you," he said, ** that we English people cumber our lives with much unnecessary fuss abo t trifles, but I fancy we are obliged to shelter some of these plants to make up for the snow covering they get abroad in the winter." Drusilla raised her eyebrows, for the first time she found Mr. Stanmore dull. She thought is interview with Maisie had changed him. " I will tell you my news, if I can sit down," she said, ** I am so tired, that hill is so steep." They had reached the summer-house and Stanmore could hardly believe he heard rightly, he had tried more than once to get a talk in this summer-house with his lovely companion and she had always contrived to avoid it ; to- day, however, Miss Lescure was so sensible of the change in his manner, that she determined to try her power ; it was absurd to suppose that he could prefer Maisie to her, and yet he had changed — Drusilla considered that he MAISIE DERRICK. "5 mil belonged to her, he was her first lover and she would not yield him to any one. She had scarcely considered her own feelings towards Mr. Stanmore, but then it must be confessed that Drusilla always preferred receiving to giving, and she resolved again that she would not as she expressed it go halves about Mr. Stanmore with Maisie Derrick. She gave him a charming glance as she bent her graceful head to avoid the straying rose sprays that had spread from the large poles of the summer-house to the thatch above them. She waited till Stanmore had placed himself beside her. " Are you ready to listen ? " — there was a mischievous light in her eyes though her tone was quiet. " I am all attention," said Stanmore. " Well then, do you remember the news I told you in the lane." The eager flash in his eyes answered her, and she went on. " I said that was good news, but I think this is better." She stopped abruptly, Mr. Stanmore was frowning till he looked very angry. " What is it ? " he said, with impatience. Drusilla shrugged her shoulders and moved a little away from him. " You see I was right, I am afraid you are a — what is this word that you have said about my guardian — I know " she went on with a smile, *' it is misanthrope, you dislike other people. No, you will never understand that I am pleased because of Captain Went worth." " You have already told me about him." Stanmore was looking across the meadow and he spoke sulkily. He almost hated Drusilla for trifling with him. "Yes," she said slowly, for she enjoyed his jealousy, though, she was half afraid lest he should abruptly leave her if she provoked him beyond bearing. ** I told you ; ) ■'I y I f Mi Ii6 MAISIE DERRICK, m 1)1 1^ Captain Wentworth and his aunt were to come next week. Well, I saw the vicar just now and he told me that Captain Wentworth is expected to-day. Now do you understand how glad I am." Her eyes were full of sunny laughter, and the look of misery in his face did not check her loquaciousness. " Have you no feelings," he said angrily — so very angrily that a bright tinge of color flew across Drusilla's cheeks as though she had received a sudden blow. She rallied however, but her eyelashes twinkled as if to keep back tears. " I feel when people are unjust," she said. Her voice sounded so pathetic that Stanmore was at once penitent, he had been brutal to this lovely fragile creature. Brutal too just when he wanted her to cling to him as a safe guard against the worldly spendthrift who was coming to disturb their peace. He took her hand and tenderly kissed it. ** You darl- ing," he whispered, "but you will forgive me, I love you so, dear girl, that I can't bear to hear you even speak to any one else." Drusilla blushed and her eyes fell under his, she was a little startled by Stanmore's suddenness, but it was very nice to be sure that he loved her. She had not time to think, the young man poured out his love in rapid impe- tuous words that fairly carried her away and made her feel as if she were out of breath while she listened. Stanmore's arm had come round her, and she let him draw her close against his breast, but Drusilla was not completely absorbed by his love-story, even while he kissed her she heard another sound outside the summer-house. There were footsteps, and then Maisie's voice said " Dru- silla, are you there ? " Drusilla pushed Stanmore away and rose up from the bench. " It is Maisie." She looked curiously at her lover, and then she went out of the summer-house. (( MAISIE DERRICK. 117 Of at vXq to ho Stanmore was too happy to feel disturbed, but he did not at once follow Drusilla. When he did come out Maisie was some way up the walk and Mr. Yardon stood beside Drusilla clasping the girl's hand in his. " What is all this about my young friend ? " he said — and he looked from one face to the other as if he were com- pletely puzzled. Stanmore had dreaded this moment ; Mr. Yardon had encouraged his attentioiis to Drusilla as much as he had formerly discouraged them and yet the young fellow knew that his host was capricious and contradictory, he might even wish to leave the girl free till she had seen Captain Wentworth. But he answered the question frankly. " It means that I want you to give me your ward. She consents, so you have no choice," he said gaily as he saw a smile curving the old man's lips. " Is that so ? " Mr. Yardon put his long brown finger under the girl's delicate chin and looked at her. Drusilla pouted. " I did not say yes," she said shyly, *'he takes my con- sent for granted." •'You should have said * no,' " Mr. Yardon said laughing, its an old story child that silence gives consent." He put out his hand and shook Stanmore's heartily. ** I'm glad it is settled," he said, " on all accounts ; kiss me Drusilla, and then go and get me my glasses, I've left them on my desk." She darted off like a fawn, glad that Maisie had already disappeared within the house. Drusilla dreaded lest she should meet Warren, she was ashamed of her own agitation, she thought it must show on her face, and she was vexed with herself for feeling it ; she had been wishing that Mr. Stanmore would propose to her. ; ! .V •i\\ 1 '%m ii8 MAISIE DERRICK. because that seemed to be the only sure way of keeping him to herself, but she had rehearsed the proposal and it had ended quite differently. She had planned that Mr. Stanmore should be more humble and she had not meant him to feel sure of her acceptance. It was Mr. Yaidon's fault for breaking in upon them, and she was conscious that the sound of Maisie's voice had made her unwilling to vex her lover. She went up to her room and seated herself to think. " It is not yet decided," she said pouting her full under lip — " I do not see that I belong to Mr. Stanmore because he has taken me by surprise, it must be wrong to take the first man who asks, there is no choice in that, it is the act of a simpleton." Drusilla sat thinking, but she did not look thoughtful. Her forehead remained smooth and her delicately marked eyebrows did not draw together ; her mother had taught the girl from a very early age that her face was her most precious possession, and that a lined forehead and a wrinkled mouth were signs of careless bringing up. But serene and lovely as she looked Drusilla was think- ing, and her thoughts at last took the form of a decision. She would permit Stanmore to consider himself engaged to her on two conditions. The attachment between them was to be kept a secret from every one but Mr. Yardon, and she was to be left free to do as she pleased, as free as she had been when she reached Yardon Hall. For an instant she wondered about Maisie, and then she remembered that the girl had been too far off to hear the talk between her grandfather and Luke Stanmore. ** It will be much more comfortable if she does not know, it will spare her feelings and — and it will leave me so much freer." Drusilla gave a sigh of relief as she got up from her sofa and looked out of her window, it was at the side of the house but the lawn could be seen from it. ;>;:i': MA IS IE DERRICK. 119 There was Mr. Yardon alone pacing up and down, his head drooping forward and his hands clasped behind him. Drusilla took up her hat from the sofa, put it on before the glass and then went softly downstairs and into the garden by a side door near the offices. She came so softly across the grass that she had slipped her hand under Mr. Yardon's arm before he knew she was near him. She pinched his arm as he started and looked up at him affectionately. " You startled me, you mischievous puss," he said, " well you seem to have made a rapid business of it." " Hush," she said quietly, " I am going to tell you," and she led him down to the border of the sunk fence at the further corner from the summer-house. Then she let go his arm and drew herself up till the old man smiled at her pretty dignified manner. " You see," she said ingenuously, ** we were interrupted before I had time to answer, and — and he took my consent for granted." Mr. Yardon frowned, he Ic "ked red and angry too. " Stop," he said, " you can't say yes and no in the same breath, girl, a fellow like Stanmore would not have made a mistake unless he'd had good reason." Drusilla shook her head and pretended to wring her long slim fingers. " You English people are so literal," she said, *' even the best of you ; dear me, I only want you to listen," there was an imploring tone in her voice for Mr. Yardon was looking as she had not seen him look — hard and inaccessible. She waited but he did not soften. Drusilla gave a little sigh, she had to forego some of her scheme in that moment- ary waiting. ** I do not know what you are making a fuss about," she said with some scorn. " I have not said that I want to alter things ; dear me no, I will tell you what I want : ■ n • li'i ' '• ':.:i: Ijf m 120 MAISIE DERRICK, li ' I ' ;3:!? in France, you know, a man does not propose his own feel- ings — -he/' she turned her head away till the flap of her hat screened her face from him — " he speaks to some one else. I have been too much surprised, and — and I want you to go after Mr. Stanmore and say to him that for the present I wish him not to speak of this. Do you understand, guardian ? " ** I hear what you say," Mr. Yardon still looked stern ; *' but I cannot enter into this till you give me a reason. You are in England, I have told you that your father was English-born and Mr. Stanmore is English. I don't want any foreign methods here, the English way seems to me the best ; if you could give me a reason." She heard his voice soften and she looked once more serene. " Isn't it reason enough," she said demurely, still keeping her face hidden, for she could not keep it grave — " if you say I am sliy, and I don't want the servants and the village people and Miss Auricula to stare at me, and — and, surely Maisie need not know just yet — I do not want to be fussed about." Mr. Yardon's face relaxed into a smile — but he was not satisfied. ** Suppose Stanmore does not agree," he said. " I care far more that you should," she suddenly turned to him with a beaming smile, '* you cannot think how you frightened me just now, my heart is still beating much faster than usual, if you are willing, then of course he will be, he cannot go against us two, can he ? " Mr. Yardon thought that if she looked at Mr. Stanmore as she was looking at him there would not be much chance that he would refuse any request she made him. He felt a very unusual compunction at having frightened the sweet winning child, as he called her to himself. He patted her on the shoulder by way of making up and Drusilla looked pleased and dutiful, and took care to keep in the amusement his awkwardness afforded her. MAISIE DERRICK, 121 " Well," he said, " you two had best settle it between you, it is not my business." He turned away but she held his arm fast between her slender palms. " Oh please listen ; you are my guardian, so it must be your business to help me. I want you to see," she went on quickly, *' that there's no time to be lost, and you are the only person who has a right to speak to — to Mr. Stanmore. Please go to him now directly. Oh yes, please do, and ask him to keep this a secret ; he must or — " Her eyes sparkled with impatience, and a pretty flush had spread over her face. " Hush," said Mr. Yardon, " do not threaten — a woman should not let herself do anything so ugly." Drusilla stared at him and her ' rms fell to her sides. " That is what mother used to say," she said, " when I was cross." She was startled by the sudden change in his face, he gave her a suspicious glance of scrutiny, then he shrugged his shoulders and turned away. " She was probably only repeating what had been said to her," he said in his most cynical tone. " There, be at peace child, you shall have your way, and be careful not to tease me with questions." He left her standing on the lawn, but she crept softly after him when he was out of sight and she smiled as she heard the click of the outer gates. He was going down to the village and she felt sure that Mr. Stanmore would have to consent to keep her secret for the present. Drusilla danced in the shrubbery path, she knew that no one could see. ** The afterwards must take care of itself," her lovely eyes were shining with glee. '^ I wish I was not engaged, but then perhaps if I had said so, he might have gone back to Maisie." i;.|:iji: t- ' ■;•/! \. .. I it V--.M nm \. • ■■' j|i 'if \ i 1 , ■■ 'if il Lii; Hi ![ m y.f 123 MAISIE DERRICK. As she went back to the house Drusilla decided that she was much too young to marry, her life was only just begin- ning and it seemed to be full of delightful possibilities. MAISIE DERRICK. 123 CHAPTER XVII. Drusilla was a close observer of words and looks, but she rarely troubled herself about the feelings of others, and, although she had the idea that there had been some kind of an attachment between Luke Stanmore and Maisie, it did not occur to hei that what had passed in the summer- house would prove a shock to the girl when it came to her knowledge. Drusilla had been absorbed by the double excitement of urging her guardian to secure Mr. Stanmore's consent to a temporary silence, and also in persuading him to pay an early visit to the Manor House ; she did not notice Maisie's manner, and she went to bed more delighted with her own success with Mr. Yardon, than by the thought of her engagement. Next morning, at breakfast, Maisie was the gayest of the party. She laughed so merrily that Mr. Yardon looked up from his paper ; he wondered whether the girl was try- ing to cover her feeling of defeat — for he fancied she must have understood his meaning about Stanmore and Drusilla. He had not meant to be cruel to his granddaughter ; the certainty that there was no longer any chance of her marrying Stanmore, had softened his own feelings towards her J but, as he wished Maisie to remain at the Hall for some time longer, he considered that it was only fair to tell her the truth, instead of leaving her to discover it. He wondered now whether Drusilla had told her news ; but as soon as Maisie left the room, Drusilla attacked him. '* You will go this morning, guardian, and then you will tell Maisie and me the news at lunch. I am dying lo hear what the captain is like." ,':ll w ■ -"tl .! 1 1 %. 1 , 1 ! V ' , % *l w i-%' L M i-*i.K, 124 MAISIE DERRICK, Mr. Yardon looked up at her, as she stood on the othei side of the table facing him, the only object worth looking at in the long, gloomy room. The rare sunshine that vis- ited that side of the house came in at breakfast time, and it had concentrated itself on her golden hair, finding out here and there a ruddy thread or two, which seemed to burn with incendiary light among the rest. For the first time, her guardian surveyed the fair creature critically, and he fancied that Drusilla's splendid wealth of hair would be yet more splendid, if it were simply arranged. Something about the frizzy coronet irritated him. ** If Stanmore's half the fellow I take him. for, he'll have that altered." Mr. Yardon also reflected, on his way to the Manor House, that Drusilla's waist looked too small for reality. This fact had not struck him during Maisie's absence, but now it suggested itself as another tendency to artificial habits. He sighed, shrugged his shoulders, and then let his head droop forward with the <. ction 01 a man who resigned him- Sf 7 to the inevitable. He took a path across some fields beyond the lawn, a path which formed a short cut to the Manor House. The man was completely genuine, and yet he had not the love for outside nature which so often exists with truth of character. A lark, high above, was pouring out soul- stirring melody enough to hold a listener still and rapt with enjoyment, but Mr. Yardon passed on, unheeding it. The almond fragrance of the hawthorn blossoms, and the tufts of forget-me-not in the hedge below, lying turquoise- like in a green setting, were as little noted by him as was the exquisite leafage of some birch trees in a copse at the end of the field. Mr. Yardon was even blinder than usual ; he had not been across this way for two months, and he must have seen that the red-grey mist of the interlacing MAISIE DERRICK. "5 branches was now replaced by tenderest green, and that both branches and twigs were, in a measure, effaced by the feathery leafage quivering in the sunshine ; his thoughts were wholly filled with a disquietude for which he could not find a reason, unless it was that shrinking from change which sometimes besets a man as he grows older. Mr. Yardon went quickly down the slope the field made into the copse, from which a plank bridge divided it. An hour later, he again came in sight, but the expression on his face was no longer doubtful. He looked red and angry, and as he crossed the single plank, he trod so heavily that it seemed possible he might dislodge it, and send it crashing down the red sides of the ditch, soft with their coating of last year's leaves, a coating which the gem- like forget-me-nots seemed glad to nestle in. Miss Lescure decided that her guardian would lunch at the Manor House, and she and Maisie were already seated when he came into the dining-room. Drusilla waited until the end of the meal before she asked him a question, but when he rose from table without having uttered a word about his visit, she stopped him. " Please sit down again," she said ; " you seem to forget that you have not told us what the captain is like. Did you see him ? " Maisie felt surprised. She had not heard of Captain Wentworth's arrival. She fancied that her grandfather looked vexed. There crept once more over the girl the bewildered feeling that she was living in a world of her own with her eyes closed to what was happening in the real world around her. " Yes, I saw Captain Wentworth," Mr. Yardon said roughly ; " but I cannot see why you should care to hear about him. Maisie, now, who might be expected to take some interest does not ask a question. ^ Tl il F: ?!:,' '^A\ \i\: 136 MAISIE DERRICK, I" He looked at. his granddaughter, and she understood him to allude to Miss Savvay's connection with the owner of the Manor House as the reason of her interest in Captain Wentworth. " Has Captain Wentworth arrived ? " she said, " and is Miss Savvay with him ? " The joy sparkling in her face annoyed Mr. Yardon. " No ; Miss Savvay comes later," he said, drily, and he went towards the door. But Drusilla reached it before he did, and she set her back against it, while she looked sweetly at her guardian. '' I am not threatening ; on the contrary, I know I look as sweet as sugar ; considering that I am very curious, do please answer my questions. Is the squire tall or short, fair or dark, ugly or handsome. I want to know exactly what he is like ? " Mr. Yardon tried to frown, but he ended by smiling. He shook his head at the lovely, pleading face. " You are a little simpleton ; a regular baby," he said. "There is nothing about Captain Wentworth to distinguish him from a score of captains fresh from India. He is not tall ; he is spare ; he would be perhaps fair, if he were less sun-bronzed, and he is certainly not handsome." Drusilla made a grimace and looked at Maisie. " He will adore us both then," she said, softly ; " little men always like tall women." ** You are talking sad nonsense," nnd Mr. Yardon looked so ungracious that Drusilla moved aside and allowed him to pass out. She turned to Maisie, with eyes full of mischief. " My goodness I " she said it very prettily ; " what is the meaning of it ? Can you explain, my dear Maisie, why the name — the very name — of Captain Wentworth makes people cross. I spoke of him to your friend, Mr. Stan- more, and he became at once irritable and contradictory. MAISIE DERRICK, 137 and you see how cross my guardian is at a mere ques- tion ; what does it mean ? " " I thought my grandfather looked worried when he came in," Maisie said, gravely. She felt disturbed by Drusilla flippancy. " You are prudish, Maisie ; you looked grave when you heard that Miss Savvay had not come with her nephew. Why should not two girls do just as well alone as one girl and a chaperon ; it must be just the same, you dear old frump. We don't want Miss Savvay to take care of us at the Manor House." Maisie laughed. *' Is that a French idea ? In England — in the country at any rate — we are still old-fashioned j but why are you interested in Captain Wentworth ? his photograph is not interesting." *' Your photo is not interesting ; it makes you look like a nigger. The only nice thing in it is your hair ; " she looked critically at the rich, careless brown waves as she spoke ; ** perhaps the captain's photo will not be a bit truer to nature than yours is." Maisie felt jarred and out of sympathy with her com- panion. She was conscious of a wish to get away from Drusilla. Miss Savvay's last words to her had been, "Whenever my nephew settles down at the Manor House, I shall only be a few days in following him." It was such entire relief to feel that she should soon have her friend near her, perhaps for weeks to come. % ■A^ :■ i)^ : f 'I it mjfm 128 MAISIE DERRICK. CHAPTER XVIII. Two men came in by the Hall gates. One of them could easily be identified as. the absentee squire by the sun- bronzed skin. Mn Yardon had specified Captain Went- worth as slightly made, neither tall nor short, with a thin face that had the placid expression of a plump one. Now, as he smiled at his companion, there was a momen- tary glisten in his narrow green-blue eyes, and his pale moustaches seemed to quiver with passing amusement ; but these tokens of feeling subsided before his words ended, and once more a pleasant vapidity resumed its place. Captain Wentworth looked delicate for all his sunbronzing, he also looked refined ; but the strongest impression he produced was that of a man who would not covet anything which would cost him trouble to possess, and who would shrink from being bored more than he would shrink from hunger or thirst. His thin voice had the sharpness one sometimes hears in a woman's. " You will have to be careful ; I fancy our friend here," he looked at the Hall as they proceeded up the drive, '* is said to be strict." His companion gave a hearty rather coarse laugh. He was tall enough and broad enough to make two Captain Wentworths, and his face showed not only a hearty enjoy- ment of life but a determined will to take all he could of the chances to be found in it. His walk across the meadows had given a slight tone of brick red to his square face ; his ruddy hair seemed to curl more crisply, and his red-brown eyes glowed as he slowly shook his head. MAISIE DERRICK. 129 " You are prepared to see a beauty here, are you — ^just because your aunt has bestowed that title on a girl whom she has never seen ? " "No, my boy; so far as my experience goes — some years longer than yours does — beauty never appears where we expect to see it. You'll find a really beautiful woman in the very last place you would think to find her in. There arn't many about, let me tell you. I've only seen a few." *' Is it worth while to take the trouble to find one ? " — the sharp thin voice sounded languid — ** if a first prize is so difficult to discover, a second, surely, does as well." *' Ah, you don't mean to marry ? I couldn't put up with second-best anything ; wait till you have seen Beaulands, my good fellow, then you'll understand that Beaulands wouldn't match with a second-rate Mrs. Boyd." Captain Wentworth winced very slightly ; but Warren had opened the door in answer to their knock, and the friends, giving their names as Captain Wentworth and Mr. Boyd, were shown into the drawing-room. Maisie came in from the library and received them with r.ii ease that surprised and pleased Captain Wentworth. His aunt had spoken of Miss Derrick's shyness; but Maisie was rarely shy with strangers whose opinion she did not value. As yet she had not formed a high opinion of Cap- tain Wentworth ; only Miss Vernon had praised him, and it must be said that Maisie rarely agreed with Miss Auri- cLiia's opinions. Captain Wentworth introduced his friend, Mr. Boyd, and then he began to talk of Miss Savvay and her plan of joining them. He had not finished when Mr. Yardon came in. He was cordial in his greeting, but he soon turned his back on Mr. Boyd and left Maisie to entertain him. This was not difficult, though she did not feel interested •■\:y \i 130 MAISIE DERRICK. m. mf'^-!.{-A\ in this visitor, for Mr. Boyd seemed to be able to talk on every subject ; he asked her if she had travelled and she had to confess to a limited experience of journeys in Switzerland and a couple of visits to Paris. Her companion, however, seemed to have been round the world ; he had visited the East, North and South America, and the Japanese Empire. He had seen Iceland and the Islands of the Mediterranean. He was in the midst of a description of Majorca when Mr. Yardon abruptly broke in : " Maisie, do you know whether Drusilla is in ? " The captain's inquiry for Miss Lescure had forced her guardian into this question. '' She is out," Maisie said. Mr. Yardon was greatly relieved ; he did not wish Mr. Boyd to see his ward. The impression of to-day had con- firmed the opinion he had formed at the Manor House, that though Captain Wentworth was a gentleman, Mr. Boyd was only a wealthy snob. On his way home her guardian had testily decided that Drusilla should be kept out of the way of this sensuous-looking millionaire. He scarcely knew why he felt so contradictory on the subject ; he had long ago seen that DrusiUa was fond of admiration ; but then Mr. Yardon would have said, had he been questioned on this point, that love of admiration was only natural in so beautiful a creature. Just at this moment Drusilla came slowly across the grass towards the drawing-room window, which opened on to the terrace. "Ah," said Captain Wentworth languidly, ** here is, I fancy, the lady you are asking about." The captain looked hard at the advancing figure. Dru- silla's fare was as yet shadowed by her broad-leaved hat ; but Mr. Boyd did not hear his friend's remark. He went on talking to Maisie ; too much absorbed by the details of his last yachting voyage to be stopped by interruption. \ 1 " 'HI MAISIE DERRICK. >3I Drusilla came in at the window next the library and Captain Wentworth's eyes glistened considerably as Mr. Yardon introduced him to his ward. The slender, golden-haired creature held herself far more stiffly than she did when she was introduced to Luke Stanmore ; lier eyelids did not droop under ths captain's gaze, indeed she returned it with a sort of curious but friendly interest. She went on smiling, but she was disappointed ; she liked a man to look strong and capable. The captain was, she fancied, as weak as a woman. He had a pleasant face, and the courtesy of his tone delighted her ; he said he hoped they should have the pleasure of seeing her at the Manor House when Miss Savvay came into residence. Drusilla placed herself on the sofa bv the window and the captain sat beside her. Mr. Yardon thus found himself shut out of the talk and he smiled at the girl's self-asser- tion ; she took her place as mistress of the house as Maisie had never done. " When do you expect your aunt ? " he heard her say, and he saw the captain's pleased smile at the dainty foreign accent that clung to her words. "She will be here fo^ Sunday; you will see her at church;" he hesitated and looked at the fair, colorless face, into which as yet he had drawn no special expres- sion ; " perhaps you don't go to our village chuich ; you are French, are you not ? " Drusilla smiled. " Oh, yes, I go to church. I have not any opinions, opinions seem to be tiresome ; " she gave him such a pretty questioning look that he felt roused from his habitual indo- lence. " You mean opinions about going to church." He thought she was perfectly charming ; it was a pleasure to look at her and to listen to her pretty English. f" ' 'I ( ,*i i^a MAISIE DERRICK. ^^■^■h "r ■! ** That is one sort of opinion ; but it belongs to the dull thmgs I mean," she said in a perplexed tone. Captain Wentworth heard a movement at the other end of the room ; he knew that his friend would not hesitate to disturb his enjoyment when he once caught sight of Miss Lescure. At present Mr. Boyd could only see the outlibe of her figure as she sat turned towards the door that led' rate the library. " Have you suffered much from dullness, you seem to speak of dull things feelingly ? " He saw a sort of challenge in her eyes at his question and he smiled. If he meant to learn the history of Miss Lescure's life, it would not be from herself; that was evident. ;* " Are you dull in India? " she said, passing by his ques- tion as if she had not heard it. " Are we dull in India ? That depends — dullness gener- ally does depend, does it not, on our surroundings ; but then does dullness exhibit itself in the same way to every one ? " Drusilla did not quite understand, she had a conscious- ness that her guardian was listening to every word, aa.d she felt uncomfortable. " Shall you not be dull in this quiet place ? " She drew down the corners of her mouth as if to say — *' I am." Mr. Yardon gave a grim smile — he was thinking of the lovely cottage beyond Sentis. Captain Wentworth's answer pleased her : " That depends," he said, " at present I am i.ot afraid of being dull." Drusilla gave him a lovely smile ; but her attention was claimed by Mr. Boyd, who came up at the moment to speak to Mr. Yardon. I > I MA IS IE DERRICK. 133 " You promised to show us your dogs, Mr. Yardon," he said ; then, as if he had suddenly berame aware of the presence of the figure in black, who was looking steadily at him, he went on : '* Is this another granddaughter, may I ask ? " Drusilla held her head stiffly at this interruption ; she did not want Mr. Boyd just then ; she was enjoying ber talk with Captain Wentworth. Slie looked at the intruder as she bowed to him, and, accustomed as she was to admiring glances, something in his glowing red-brown eyes brought a quick flush to her delicate face. For an instant her dark eyelashes drooped and quivered, then she looked coolly at her new admirer. She was resolved to show this big man who had intruded where he was not wanted, that she was not a mere country girl who felt honored by his notice. She felt a certain admiration. He looked well-dressed and masterful, a man wlio was accustomed to be much thought of, and, therefore, Drusilla argued a rich man ; she fancied, too, that somewhere or other she had already seen him. But the effect of her appearance on Mr. Boyd had been electrical. While he sat talking to Miss Derrick he had glanced across at the other ; she seemed to have a pliant, willowy figure in thought ; but she was not so well made as Miss Derrick was. Maisie's figure and well-shaped feet and hands had impressed this cjjicure in female beauty far more than her face had. Miss Derrick looked too earnest, that pure trustful expression was not calculated to please an admirer of Greuze faces and golden hair. He stood looking down at Drusilla with delight ; he could hardly believe in the good fortune which, in an out of the way i)lace like this, had shown him so rare a crea- ture, and he liked her none the less for the pout that showed 134 MAISIE DERRICK. I'tff ■ ■ her red lips so perfectly. He wanted, however, to see her smile before he left her. " Shall we go to the kennels ? " Mr. Yardon spoke roughly, the little scene had annoyed him, and he meant to end it. ** Ah, yes ; why not ? " But Mr. Boyd did not move, he kept his eyes fixed on the fair face with its dark liquid eyes and the mass of sunny hair above the creamy blue- veined temples. " Are you fond of dogs ? " he said to Drusilla. " I ! " She opened her eyes widely, as if she were sur- prised to be spoken to. " Oh, no ; I dislike dogs ; " and she looked at Captain Wentworth. " You will not stay long at the Manor House, I expect." She turned her back on Mr. Boyd. The captain shrugged his shoulders. *' I must not be in London during the season," he said ; " I am supposed to be here for health's sake. Unless you all send me to Coventry — I mean to spend part of the summer here." " Miss Derrick will be so glad," Drusilla said softly ; *' she is so very fond of your aunt." " Yes," the captain spoke languidly ; " Maisie's affection for Miss Savvay did not interest him. *' By-the-bye, will not you and Miss Derrick honor the Manor House by a visit on Saturday afternoon. My aunt will be with us early ? " He saw a sudden sparkle in Drusilla's eyes and he was puzzled. It seemed impossible that so beautiful a creature could take an interest in seeing a dull old place like the Manor House. " We will certainly come," she said ; " but your being sent to Coventry must depend on yourself." " You must not expect much," he returned her saucy smile. " There are no pictures worth looking at, only some family portraits, and my grandmother appears to have MAISIE DERRICK, *35 sold a good deal of old tapestry which was really interest- ing and had a pedigree." Drusilla shook her head. '' I'm glad she sold it. I dare say it was ugly and faded," she made a grimace. ** Old things usually are," she added in a low tone. " Are you coming," captain ? " Mr. Yardon said, and at this the captain rose and said " good-bye " to Drusilla and to Maisie, to whom he repeated his invitation for Saturday. ■'I ,:( " i I I II 1 1 H 1 IHI ■1 ^H lj[ Hi i^H PI m I 136 MAISIE DERRICK. CHAPTER XIX. It was said in Figgsmarsh, as it had formerly been said in the north country town in which Mr. Yardon had been chief banker, that he was a mystery. Miss Auricula had more than once given it as her opinion that he was a mystery to himself; she said he never thought either about others or about anything ; even Miss Savvay, a woman seldom either shallow or harsh in judgment, considered that he thought too little about others to have much regard for their feelings. To-day when he had said ** good-bye " to his unwelcome guests, for apart from a special antipathy to Mr. Boyd, he had a sort of fatherly dislike to young male visitors, always excepting the young engineer. He came up the drive with his hands behind him and his head bent forward. He was uoubly discontented. Drusilla's manner had vexed him, and he was conscious of a certain responsibility with regard to Luke Stanmore. The young fellow's opposition to Drusilla's wish for secrecy had irritated him, he now saw how justly founded it had been, and he despised himself for his own blindness. " Little jade," he said, " she has handicapped us both so that she may flirt as she pleases." He was hardly angry with Drusilla, it seemed to him natural that a merry light-hearted girl, to whom all social intercourse was a novelty, should wish for liberty to enjoy herself to the full, but he winced when he contrasted her behavior with the quiet dignity he had remarked in Maisie. Miss Vernon and Miss Savvay would have wondered if the of MA IS IE DERRICK, nT- m they had seen the pain in Mr. Yar don's face as he thought of his granddaughter and Luke Stanmore. He knew that he had separated them by his own act, that he had purposely put this lovely bewitching creature in the young fellow's way, because he wished him to forget Maisie. Mr. Yardon wanted to have a lively young couple to keep house for him at the Hall when he began to fail, but he did not want Maisie there, she was too quiet, too good, he saw what the parson thought of her and that was enough for Mr. Yardon ; but although he disliked as much as ever any idea which connected Maisie with Luke Stan- more, he had to-day a feeling of remorse in regard to her, He had given her to understand that Stanmore cared for Drusilla, but that was not enough, he felt sure that Maisie was unconscious of what had passed in the summer-house, and she must know it, it was cowardly to keep her in the dark any longer. As he passed the end of the shrubbery walk leading to the lawn he heard voices raised in dispute. Luke Stanmore was speaking angrily, and Drusilla was laughing in a way that sounded mocking to her guardian. He turned at once into the narrow path. Stanmore's back was towards him. Drusilla faced him, and there was a light in her eyes and a bright red flush on her cheeks that looked like anger. " You have your choice? " she said, " it is better to hnd it out now than later on, t^* 1 1 do not suit you. You want to keep me in a cage likt, ;ome poor moped bird, and I — I — ah ! here is Mr. Yardon, perhaps you will listen to him." She tried to hurry away up the walV^ but as she' passed him, Mr. Yardon took her hand and drew it under his arm. " Quarrelling already," he said, with a sneer, "why you are as bad as the birds. Stanmore, my good fellow, you must give women there heads at first or they'll kick over the traces. What's it all about, eh ? " 1 m n ;., (at; !| ( . Ml' 'i !;t: 138 MAISIE DERRICK. Drusilla had pulled out her handkerchief and she put it to her eyes. " He's so false," she said, in a choked voice. " He want's to break his promise not to tell." Mr, Yardon walked on in silence till they all stood by the sunk fence. He noticed that Stanmore looked pale and that the veins on his temple showed unusually. He looked now fully at Mr. Yardon with a dumb agony in his eyes. ** I was a fool to consent yesterday, you overuled me, but then I did not know those other fellows were at the Manor House. I can't see that it is fair either to them or to me that she is to be considered free ? "* *' I am at least free to go away, am I not ? It is not kind," Drusilla said, pettishly, " to discuss me to my face." She gave Mr. Yardon an imploring look as she ended, but he kept his eyes on Mr. Stanmore, while his hold on the hand he had drawn under his arm tightened. " I am quite of you opinion," he said, as if Drusilla had not spoken. " But you surely don't need to call me in, if you cannot convince her now, how will it be later on ? " He glanced at Drusilla and he was startled at the scowl he saw on her face. Her eyes were aflame with anger. She was in one of the tempers that used to visit her at Sentis, and which her mother had exorcised by shutting her up by herself. " I don't want to be managed," she broke out, " I did not want to be engaged, but you would not listen. I — I — will not be tormented and blamed." She was crying, and the two men looked uncomfortable and foolish. Mr. Yar- don loosed Drusilla's hand. " Go in to my study " he said, roughly, " and wait till I come." The girl was quickly out of sight. She was already heartily ashamed of her outbreak. MAISIE DERRICK, "39 Yardon looked angrily at the younger man. "You don't know how to treat a woman. I tell you they are brittle cattle, more e:^ ' ^ly the light-haired ones." " But," Stanmore began, impetuously. ' " Why don't you listen man, did I not say I was of your opinion, your matter is right enough, its the way of putting it that's faulty. You must humor the child instead of scolding her. Bless you these things leak out ; before Miss Savvay has been two days at the Manor House it will be known all over Figgsmarsh." Luke Stanmore looked extremely discontented. " It must be set straight," he said, doggedly. Then he felt that this was not the most likely way to influence his companion, and he looked appealingly at him. " You can help me if you will ? I can't have fellows looking at her and talking to her as they please, she — she's not like an ordinary girl." " Well, no." There was sarcasm in the old man's voice. " she's not, and I fancy the sooner she is married the better in all ways. I suppose you don't want a long engagement, eh ? " " No." But Stanmore felt that he and Drusilla must settle this for themselves. He had received a shock just now — for an instant it had seemed as though a mask fell from the lovely face he worshiped, and then when he saw her tears he could have knelt to her forforf.iveness. He had deserved Mr. Yardon's rebuke, though he had not as the elder man said ' scolded ' Drusilla. He had asked her in justice to others as well as to him to make their engage- ment known, but he had asked this very urgently, and she had refused, at first playfully and then when he pressed his request and held both her hands tenderly clasped, she had angrily freed herself and persisted in her refusal. No, he did not wish for a long engagement, but he felt I! i-!l 'it] riii'i I40 MA IS IE DERRICK, that he and this sweet wayward child ought to understand one another a little better before they joined their lives. ** If you are wise," Yardon said, ** you'll leave her alone a day or two. You will find her all right when you come again." He laughed as he shook hands, but Stanmore felt discon- fited, and as he went down the lane he told himself that he ought to have insisted on his own right to make his engagement public. He resolved to announce it himself to Miss Savvay, but he would write and tell Drusilla his inten- tion as gently and tenderly as he could. Mr. Yardon had gone direct to his study. He found Drusilla pacing up and down it. There was still a red spot on each cheek, but she had evidently controlled her anger. She smiled at her guardian as he came in. He looked gravely at her. " Please sit down, Miss Lescure," he said, " you make me feel as if I was out in the wind while you move about."^ " Gracious ! " This was one of the girl's words that an- noyed her guardian. "You are fidgetty to-day." But she sat down close by him and put her slim hand on the arm of his chair. He looked curiously at her. It puzzled him that a creature to all appearance so refined and dainty could talk some- times more like a shop-girl than a lady. He thought Dru- silla's archness was one of her greatest charms ; but now and then her flippancy jarred him. It had a strange effect on the difficult old man. Just now in the garden it had seemed to him that the exquisite creature who had promised to be the joy of his declining years was transformed into a fury, it was a real relief to see the smile that always soothed him on her lovely face. " You must be reasonable," he said, gravely, ** you are not a child, and when you have given one man to under- stand that you mean to be his wife you must not flirt with others." MA IS IE DERRICK. 141 " What do you mean by flirt ? " she said, gravely. " You forget how ignorant I am about what Miss Vernon calls society ? " " Hang Miss Vernon," Mr. Yardon spoke angrily. ■" You'll not get wise advice from her." Drusilla pinched his arm. " I'm afraid you forget," she said, " when first I cane, you told me that Miss Auricula was very lady-like, and I think she is quite a grande dame ; but you need not fear, she is dull ; I do not often go to see her ? " Mr. Yardon uttered an impatient exclamation. "Miss Ver- non's a safe guide about house-keeping and dressing and so forth, but she's not the pattern I wish you to follow, in her ways with — with men. I don't want to be hard on her, but she's not so young as she was, and she means to marry." Drusilla looked at him in simple wonder. " Guardian ! I have heard you say that it is every woman's duty to get 1 carried ; what can you mean ? " He shook his head : " I did not say just that, child. I said it was the duty of a woman to marry, provided she was young and healthy, but you never heard me say it was a woman's duty to get herself married. Look you here, Drusilla, you are going to marry Luke Stanmore ; you care for him, I have seen it, and he loves you well enough to satisfy any woman. Now, you are my ward, and I'm not going to let you play fast and loose with any man. Well ! let bygones be ; but I shall tell Miss Savvay of your engagement, as soon as she comes to the Manor House. I'm not going to have the captain here again till he knows you are engaged. He's not in a position to marry, I can tell you that ; he'll not be able to free himself in his lifetime ; he'll be a poor man to the end of his days. The old man checked himself. "I don't know what interest that can have for you, seeing that you belong to Luke Stanmore." m 142 MAISIE DERRICK. Dnisilla rose up, she was struggling against herself. A new strange restraint was warning her not to irritate Mr, Yardon, and she strove angrily not to yield to the awe with which this stern old man inspired her. " You talk of me as if I was a sheep or a dog," she pouted out her red lips. ' I told you I had been hurried into this. I like Mr. Stanmore, but — " '* Listen, child ? " He spoke sternly and caught hold of her wrist ai» though he feared she would not stay to listen. " I am not a tyrant, Drusilla ; if you want to break altogether with Luke Stanmore, do it at once, only there shall be no playing fast and lose in this house. Give me a plain answer whether you wish your engagement ended —Yes or No?" Drusilla moved her head wearily, all this fuss seemed to her so unnecessary, and then she began to consider pros and cons. " Why should you think I want to break with Mr. Stan- more," she said. '* I like him ? " She moved to the door as Mr. Yardon let her go, he had warned her, and yet he felt that he did not trust her. Mr. Yardon's dissatisfaction with his ward had softened his feelings with regard to Maisie. He had a certain pride in feeling that his granddaughter would not be capable of flirting. It was probable that in the beginning, Maisie had, as he expressed it, made up to Mr. Stanmore, but her grandfather was just enough to own that if she had done this it must have been from liking, not mere flirting ; his own observation having shown him how quiet her manner was both with Mr. Vernon and with Mr. Boyd, or with any other strny visitor at the Hall. If she still liked Stanmore the sooner ought she to know of Drusilla's engagement. There was a shrewd twinkle in the old man's eyes as he went to the library. '' Set a thief to catch a thief — I say set a girl to watch MAISIE DEKKICK. HJ; another girl when they both care for the same man, Maisie will be the best of watch dogs." But for all that he felt nervous at approaching the sub- ject with his granddaughter. He found her in the library writing. Mr. Yardon was one of the fortunate mortals who have a readiness in seizing opportunities. " Are you writing to Miss Savvay, Maisie ? " It was so new for her grandfather to take an interest in her doings that the girl felt a sudden warmth at her heart, and this showed gratefully in her dark eyes. " Yes," she said, " I am so glad she is to stay." The last words annoyed Mr. Yardon. "Very well — " he had meant to say it so much more gently — " you can tell her then that Drusilla is engaged. I wish Miss Savvay to know it and Captain Wentworth also. You'll make it clear to her that it not a secret, Maisie ? " He had kept looking at the books opposite him, but now he turned and bent down as if he were choosing a volume from one of the shelves behind him. ** She is engaged to Mr. Stanmore, I suppose ? " Maisie was better prepared than he had expected. Less than an hour ago she, from her window, had seen a meeting of Luke Stanmore and Drusilla, it was not very lover-like, yet something in Mr. Stanmore's manner had at once warned her of the truth. Since then she had been trying not to think ; she had only resolved that no one should know the pain she suffered. She was stupefied with the sudden certainty of her loss ; so stupefied that she could not realize the trial that lay before her. ** Yes ! " Her calm tone surprised him, he turned round and looked at her, but Maisie went on writing as if she were undisturbed. Her grandfather felt an involuntary admiration. He fumbled with the books a few minutes longer, then he said, huskily : •!.••■■■ 1 ', ! I- • • I J44 MAISIE DERRICK, *' Make my kind regards to Miss Savvay ? " and he went away. ';K: MAISIE DERRICK, 145 CHAPTER XX. For the next two days Maisie could not have said how life went. Each night was a long, tortured wakefulness, and each day was dream-like. Drusilla did not speak of her engagement or of Luke Stanmore, and Maisie felt that it was unnecessary to force the subject. As yet she could not analyse the dull, dreadful pain that gripped her till she could scarcely bear it. She knew, in a dim, far-off way, that this sorrow was not purely selfish ; that she grieved for Stanmore almost more than for herself. She could not believe in Drusilla's love for him. She shrank from the girl's deceit with a horror equalling the blind trust she had felt. But she only seemed to think clearly in her long, wakeful nights, and she knew the convictions that came to her in those dark hours might be like most night thoughts, exaggerated. She looked so worn and pale at luncheon on Saturday that even Mr. Yardon saw the change in her. *' You want a good walk, Maisie," he said, " Why don't the two of you go across the common as far as Ruddock Wood?" '* Drusilla gave a silvery, rippling laugh. " You dear thing," she looked so sweetly at him, " don't you know that we are engaged this afternoon? We are going to tea with Miss Savvay." '' "Is that so?" Mr. Yardon frowned a little. *• You will give my best regards to Miss Savvay, Maisie, and — and I will come and meet you on your way home." " Thank you," Maisie, said. Drusilla looked into her plate and began a game which she was fond of playing — flinging little bread pellets dex- 10 I'!-- : i ' %. ■■ -'I •■¥■;.! '^:^h I it r Z46 MAISIE DERRICK, . 'iv:.m urn m terously into her plate, so as to form some definite figure. The girl beiit over her plate as if she were reading her future in the shape the crumbs had taken. She started, when Maisie said — " Will you be ready at four ? " They found Miss Savvay in a quaint little room at the extreme end of the entrance hall. One of the windows opened under a verandah wreathed in clinging plants, and two steps from this led into a little garden, or, rather, a grass plot, surrounded by flowering shrubs, with a gay bed of spring flowers in the middle of the grass plot. Miss Savvay was sitting under the verandah. Maisie had to bend her head as she passed out to greet her friend. " This is pleasant," Miss Savvay said, as she kissed her ; then she turned to Drusilla, " Miss Lescure, I am glad to see you." Drusilla was pleased with the admiring look she met. ** You are very kind to be glad," she said, " I was afraid I should be in the way." " That is very sweet ; you must give me a kiss, my dear ; you are not likely to be in the way ; it is a pleasure to look at you." Drusilla smiled, and then she looked back into the room behind her. " What a charming room," she said. " I never saw any- thing so pretty ; these little brackets and all this china ; I never saw anything like it. May I go in and examine them ? " Miss Savvay smiled. *' This is a poor little room, but my mother was fond of it. You must see the Manor House itself, and you, too, Maisie, you ought to see it. There is an old oak stair- case, and upstairs there is a picture gallery, and, I believe, some really valuable tapestry." MAISIE DERRICK, «47 " Is there a ghost ? " said Drusilla. " I have never seen one ; but I was young when I left the Hall." " There are always foolish stories about an old house. This one has been shut up, off and on, for thirty years. You have never seen it, have you, Maisie ? No, I thought not. You must see it next time you come. Lawrence and his friend are out to-day." Miss Savvay was as bright as the sunshine of a spring day, and full of cheery talk. Her keen, wise eyes had been feasting on Drusilla's beauty, and as she spoke she saw a cloud fall on the lovely face. She turned at once to Maisie. " May 1 ask if you talked to my nephew ? " she said. " He said he had been charm- ingly entertained ; I hope you found him pleasant." " I did not talk to Captain Wentworth," Maisie answered. " I was listening to Mr. Boyd." " Then it was you alone who so bewitched him," Miss Savvay looked at Drusilla, as the girl turned from the china, " he said he had not heard that you were bespoken." A bright flush of annoyance showed on Drusilla's face. Miss Savvay imagined it to be a natural confusion at the mention of her engagement ; and this suddenly recalled the fact which Drusilla's beauty had put out of her remem- brance, that Mr. Stanmore was a faithless flirt. *' Lawrence is very pleasant," she looked at Maisie again ; " it is a pity he can't marry, but unless he finds an heiress able and willing to pay his debts, I see no chance for him." " Perhaps he does not care to marry ? " Maisie hardly knew why she looked at Drusilla, and saw that the girl was listening with interest. " Perhaps not ; he was laughing at his friend this morn- ing. Mr. Boyd is so anxious to find a wife. He is one of the lucky men who need not look out for an heiress ; he \A ^; 11 1 ; ^ c Is I' ' 148 MAISIE DERRICK, r»eems to be a millionaire ; by-the-bye, Miss Lescure/' she suddenly looked full into the room at Drusilla, "Mr. Boyd says he has met you somewhere ; do you remember him ? " Drusilla felt a sudden shock. " Yes/' she said, indifferently. '' I saw him once when I was travelling." Miss Savvay was going to ask a question, but the girl had moved to the farthest corner ')f the little room, and was examining a china saucer. Miss Savvay turned again to Maisie. ** I never heard of any one so rich as Mr. Boyd is. At least I may have heard, but I certainly never talked to a man who goes yachting all over the world, who has a villa on Lake Como, and a lovely house in the Bay of Naples ; he seems to live like a royal personage when he is at home." Drusilla longed to speak, but she continued her inspec- tion of the china and curios on the mantel-shelf and the brackets within tlie room. Does he live abroad ? " Maisie said. '' I fancy he spends most of his time abroad, but he has a beautiful place in Devonshire, * Beaulands,' and he said that when he marries, he shall have a house in London, in either Mayfair or Belgravia." Maisie sat looking at her friend, this common-place, gossipy talk was so unlike Miss Savvay, it puzzled her. Presently tea was brought, and Drusilla came out and took her place near the dainty little table with its fringed cloth and old-fashioned china and silver burden. Maisie leaned back, with a smile on her parted lips. " You seem to be enjoying yourself," Drusilla said. " It is all so beautiful," Maisie said ; " from where I sit, I see those grand old trees spreading on and on, till they seem to form a wood at the end of the park ; then the grey tone of the old stone work and the old brick wing MAJSIE DERRICK, 149 look more like a house in a story than a real one ; a house in which one race of people has lived for so long must be different from a mere modern house. Drusilla turned away her head ; she was gaping. "An old house is, perhaps, not so healthy," Miss Savvay said ; " there is a mustiness about this one ; but there is a certain charm in the links of an unbroken succession, that connects one generation with another ; that china, for instance, which Miss Lescure was examining, is to me full of little family episodes and memories." Drusilla had become silent and abstracted ; she rose, and crossing the grass she bent over the rhododendrons that made a rich purple background to the green semi-circle of lawn. The tall, graceful figure in black went on, bending now and then over some rarer blossom, till she passed out of sight behind the spring flower-bed in the centre of the grass. '* She is very lovely," Miss Savvay said j " do you like her, Maisie ? " Maisie hesitated an instant. " Yes," she said, " she is very sweet." Miss Savvay gave her friend a searching look, but Maisie bore it. There was a large myrtle in a tub, partly sheltered by the verandah, and Miss Savvay looked at it in search of a fresh sprig, as she began to speak. " She is charming ; but she is not a fit wife for young Stanmore — dear me, no. I have nothing to say against him ; he'll get on in life fast enough, but his life will be a work-a-day one, and hi:s wife will be called on to share his cares as well as his pleasures. That pretty, showy crea- ture is too expensive a luxury for a rising engineer. She should marry a millionaire." * My grandfather says that she and Mr. Stanmore are " I ; M . \\^m t: lij. 'SO MA IS IE DERRICK. II If very much attached to one another ; " said Maisie, gravely. Miss Savvay suddenly held out th? sprig of myrtle to Maisie. ■ " Nonsense ; you must not be vexed ; but your grand- father is as blind as a bat about an attachment; don't know the right sort from the wrong. I said all that just now about Mr. Boyd, on purpose ; I fancy our beauty will rot be quite so devoted to her engineer when next tbey meet. Boyd is just the man for her. Why should the pretty creature be robbed of her diamonds and her frocks, and all the gay things that would set her off and make her happy ? " Maisic's eyes were round with surprise ; she stared at her friend in some bewilderment. " Do you think that money, of itself, will make Drusilla happy?" she said. " Yes, I do. Money w^uld not make you happy; nor mc either, Maisie ; but if you gave Miss Lescure her free choice, she would not hesitate. I fancy she will care more for the means he has, than for the man she marries." ''You are hard." Maisie looked after Drusilla, who stood, half-hidden, among the trees beyond the garden, it seemed treason to talk of the girl in this way. " I'm afraid we must not stay much longer. Mr. Yardon said he should come and meet us." ** Well, then, let him come on here ; I should have no scruple in saying to him what I have said to you, Maisie, and he might help matters. Maisie looked gravely at her friend. "You surely are not in earnest ; it would, at leasi, make Mr. Stanmore unhappy, and my grandfather would be very angry if Drusilla were to behave so ill." She rose from her seat and walked on towaids Miss Lescure. MAISIE DERRICK. «S« Miss Savvay looked after her and shook her head. " Behave so ill, indeed ! As if anyone need keep faith \irith such a fickle fellow. I wish Maisie would pluck up a spirit and despise him. No, you don't, Eleanor Savvay, you know very well you would give the top-joint of your little finger if you could break this engagement, and brnig the engineer back to that sweet, brawj girl." She was obliged to quit her reflections, for Drusilla had come back and was asking to be shown a way home through the park. "Captain Wentworth told me about it," she said, with a lovely light in her eyes. Miss Savvay looked at her less admiringly than she had done on her arrival, though she still felt the fascination of her fresh beautiful youth. *' He told you about that gate, did he ? " she said, sharply ; he might also have said that no one ever uses that gate except the master, and that he only has the ke^ of it. I am afrairi it is useless to go that way to-day. You would find the gate locked, and it would be a long round back to the entrance gates." Drusilla made the prettiest apologies ; she was distressed to have suggested anything troublesome ; and then she bent down to kiss her farewell. " I should like to come and see you again soon, may I ? " She spoke so caressingly, so like a dear little child, that Miss Savvay was ashamed of herself. " Come whenever you like," she said, genially, " I won't say you'll be as welcome as flowers in May ; you are like a flower, yourself, you know — like a tall June lily." Drusilla smiled and nodded, and kissed her hand, look- ing back as she walked after Maisie, who was already going down the shady walk that led to the avenue. Hi *.,(,. .1.' BJ #Im \ .■ «5« MAISIE DERRICK', CHAPTER XXI. It''. "' It'r' . There had not been so much talk in Figgsmarsh since the news of old Mr. Savvay's death came from Rome twenty years ago. It seemed almost hard on the worthy villagers that they should get such budgets of news at one and the same time, an unfairness towards the rest of the year, equalling that of the flowering trees and shrubs of early June, which monopolise more than their share of the year's beauty. First of all, had come the apparition of the beautiful foreign lady at the Hall, without so much as a word of warning, and then the almost simultaneous love-making between her and Mr. Stanmore and the home-coming of the squire. But this last event was a grievance — it was indeed probable that the Figgsmarsh worthies, notably the car- penter, Mr. Frame, and the blacksmith, Mr. Foxley, to say nothing of the newsman, Mr. Simon, or, as he was usually called, Sim Parrot, would carry a sore memory of it to their dying day. Joshua Frame had used what he was pleased to call a vast amount of brain power in the design- ing of a triumphal arch, with which he had intended to encumber the road on the day of the captain's home- coming. " It were a work of hart, that's what t'was," he was saying mournfully to the blacksmith, as he leaned against the cottage door-post while old Foxley sat smoking and listening. *' I'd shown it to the vicar — sort of compliment, you understan me, neighbor, more en I set any store by parson's judgment ; an he says, leave me this till to-mor- row, will you ? In course I did so j an from what the MAISIE DERRICK. «S3 missus hev heard 'tis plain as the nose on yer face, Mr. Foxley, 'at the parson knowed as the captain was going to sneak in in this here ordinary manner ; why I was axiolly in the road near by the station an I saw the cab going along, an I took no more account on it an if 'thad been the parson hisself. No, Mr. Foxley I'll not go to church come to-morrow, nor Sunday after neither. I'm longer in the parish than what the vicar is. I pays my doos when called on, and I've not been treated on tlie square." Mr. Foxley took out his pipe with some alacrity. Joshua Frame's voice was monotonous, and the blacksmith con- sidered he had been long enough on the stump for the present. " 'Tis modern," he said with superior wisdom ; "bless you its the small end of the wedge that's a piercin every- where. Why do the squire — you calls him capen, Joshua j to my mind he's a capen in the army^ but at home among his tenants an' his neighbors why he takes his rightful title sure enough and that's Squire of Figgsmarsh." " Well, what about the squire ? " Foxley asked, the car- penter's propensity to turn down by paths in his talk worried him. *' Well, 'tis the same with him as the rest. None of the gentry now-a-days don't see no use in superfluss, that's the word, superfluss expense, triumphal arches and the rest ; well that means expense and drink money and treat- ing, and you see no one can't take no notice if he sets his own face agin being took notice of. I^m blessed if I don't think the old man up the hill of more vall^- vO ine trades- people than what the captain's like to be. Good-mornin, Miss Foxley.*' Harriet came forward from the kitchen, but it was evident that she had not been drawn forward by the attrac- tion exercised by Mr. Frame. Her pale blue eyes stared I "tWx ■ 154 MAISIE DERRICK, \ . : P¥i past him even while she nodded, and he turned to see who might be passing. Then indeed he knew that his gossip was over ; Mrs. Greig was coming across the road, and between her and the loquacious carpenter there reigned a peaceful, but none the less for its silence, a poignant antipathy. For this reason, doubtless, they spoke to one another with extra civility, and the carpenter stepped down on to the path, so that Mrs. Greig could pass into the cottage. But Mrs. Greig had come out in search of sympathy, not to pour out her trouble to such a listener as Mr. Frame. " I couldn't think of intruding," she said, " I'll look in presently when Mr. Foxley is disengaged." " Come in, ma'am, come in," the blacksmith said heartily, his handsome old face beaming as he kept back a hardly repressed chuckle at the civilities interchanged be- tween his friends. He would have enjoyed their joint company; but the determination in Mrs. Greig's closed lips warned him that he must choose between her and the carpenter. " Good-day, ma'am," Joshua said. " Good-day, Foxley," and nodding to Harriet, whose pale face showed above her father's high chair-back, Mr. Frame went back to his carpenter's shed on the further side of Vicarage Lane. Mrs. Greig did not begin upon her trouble ; she under- stood mankind, as she expressed herself, too well for that. She asked how Mr. Foxley felt, if he did not feel a touch of east wind under this warm sunshine, and, in the same breath, was sure he didn't or he could not look so bright and altogether cheering. " It is such a thing to be a family man," she said smiling, *•' what with Harriet," she ventured a glance at the pale face which showed no trace of sympathy, "and, Mr. George, you are never, so to say, alone." MA IS IE DERRICK. ^ " Bless you, ma'am," the blacksmith said heartily." " I like to be alone so long as I have my pipe for company. I've a deal to think about taking one day with another." She gazed at him admiringly : " No doubt of it," she said, " with such a head as yours so full of wisdom you could never be at a loss as some are." Harriet stuck her tongue into her cheek, she had a secret belief that Mrs. Greig aimed at being her stepmother, and this flattery was one of her weapons. Foxley half-closed one eye and then he looked com- passionately at his visitor. " We are all at a loss sometimes," he said, " but I take it a woman can help a man with her hands v/hile the man helps her with his head ; so, as I've said before, neighbor, when there's trouble forrard you can lay it before me." He had not turned his head, but he knew that his daughter could hear every word he said ; he knew too that jealousy interfered with Harriet's cookery, and he was in no fear of offending Mrs. Greig. " I might call it puzzle more than trouble," Mrs. Greig's narrow forehead puckered into yellow furrows, " its con- cerning my lodges — and it beats me." She heard Harriet's gown rustle as she leaned forward to listen. The blacksmith had begun to smoke and he did not interrupt. ** You thought and thought that he was gone on Miss Derrick, and then, when the French lady came, he was always going up to see her ; he don't go near so often since Miss Derrick came back, and yet I've been told by one as ought to know that he's as good as promised to Miss Les- cure." Harriet gave a defiant snort. " Its not true — who said it? " Mrs. Greig raised her eyebrows. It was wonderful she thought that this big flabby woman could live with such a "N* •■ ::\ ! t* 156 MAISIE DERRICK, polite young fellow as her brother and such an old gentle- man as Mr. Foxley, who, to Mrs. Greig, represented per- fection in most ways, and yet be so uncouth ; yes, un- couth was the word for Harriet, and it must be owned that Foxley's daughter looked repulsive enough as she bent forward, her eyes darker than usual with anger and her heavy lipped mouth pushed forward in sullen challenge. " I don't care to gossip," said Mrs. Greig. " Mr. Ver- non told us last Sunday as we didn't ought to gossip about what's not our business ; though this partly is my business, because when Mr. Stanmore marries he'll not want to live m lodgings." She looked up, Harriet was scowling till her yellow pallor was hideous to behold. " I mean this,*' Mrs. Greig's words crime more quickly : ** Four days ago, Mr. Stanmore and the beauty was sitting hand in hand in the summer-house in the garden — and all at once," Mrs. Greig lowered her voice as if she were speaking of a crime, " he kissed her," she said severely. " Well," said the blacksmith, " and there's no wonder in that surely." Mrs. Greig felt so disturbed that she forgot to watch Harriet. " Well," she said, " Mr. Stanmore's not free ; he hasn't ways like some gents ; if Mr. Stanmore kisses a lady, its because he cares for her, and so on ; and this happened four days ago, and yet, my lodger hasn't lOok a bit of notice to me about it, no more than if nothing had hap- pened." The blacksmith smoked on, his daughter stood leaning against the wall unbelieving and contemptuous. Mr. Foxley was a crony of Warren's and he sometimes heard of the doings at Yardon Kail from the butler ; but he was a safe confident, and, moreover, he had a complete disbelief in the discretion of women. *' Give a female anything to keep," he said. " She can't do it ; there ain't nothing she's so liberal in as news, she'll mg ete n't e'll MA IS IE DERRICK, X^ ^^: IS7 always add some of her own to a story afore she passes it on." " Tell ye what it is, Mrs. Greig," he said at last, "you've no call to worry yourself, 'tis maybe a secret between the young folks, and the least said about it the better. The old gentleman is hard, no doubt on it ; perhaps, he don't want to lose his pretty visitor. We can't tell ; time will show, so make your mind easy." Mrs. Greig sighed. She had eased her mind, but she was was not comforted. She liked her lodger ; he paid regularly ; he gave little trouble and he spoke and behaved like a gentleman, and he kept early hours ; she was not likely to get his match. She wished to linger, but she knew Mr. Foxley's ways ; he had had enough of her for the present, so she gave a friendly nod and prepared to take her leave. Harriet had retreated to the kitchen and a low gibbering sound indicated that she was talking to herself. Her father knew that this was a sign of mental disturbance, and he feared it would affect later on the cooking of his supper ; he also knew that remonstrance was useless. So he sat still, while every now and then some abusive epithet sounded above the monotonous gibber in which the woman's frenzy found vent. It seemed to Foxley that Harriet was threatening Miss Lescure, but he could not hear any coherent meaning in her bursts of anger. He smiled sadly as he gave himself up to the soothing influence of his pipe. ** Poor lass ! " he said. " Her brains wasn't all born with her and she knows it ; and her temper gets fretted in seeking after her strayed wits —poor fractious soul." I V-'-\ \\ I i / / IS8 MAISIE DERRICK. m m CHAPTER XXII. As Maisie and Drusilla went down to the Manor Ho ?se there had been little talk between them. Maisie had been unusually silent and Drusilla had walked on singing in a pleasant but thin voice some fragments of French peasant lays. As they came home, the girls seemed to have changed characters. Maisie was brighter than she had been for days ; it had been delightful to see her old friend's kind face, and Miss Savvay's Nv'arm kisses and the tender clasp of her fingers lingered with the girl as she walked homewards. Even to this tried friend Maisie could not have told her trouble, she, as much as slie could, kept her own mental sight closed to the wound that had been dealt her, but that great mysterious power, sympathy, had made itself felt, and with- out one spoken word a healing touch had been laid on her grief. She could hardly believe that this comfort had come within reach ; her friend had said she would make a long stay at the Manor House ; for weeks to come Maisie knew that she would find love and help close at hand. She had spoken more than once to Drusilla since they left the wood, but she had only received monosyllables in reply. Miss Lescure had lagged behind, she was troubled by an unpleasant memory and its presence doubled the steepness of the way. * Are yoi. tired ? " Maisie stopped and looked round at her companion. " Tired I " Drusilla's voice sounded irritable, " I should think so, my back aches with this steep climb. I had na idea it was such a hill." he I on i( MAISIE DERRICK. 159 111 1 >> "We are nearly home," Maisie said encouragingly. " Stay," she added as Mr. Yardon came in sight, " my grandfather has kept his word, he is coming to meet us, he will help you along." Miss Lescure's fair face had a defeated look on it, she only smiled faintly when they met Mr. Yardon. " Are you tired ? " his eyes had passed over Maisie, and rested on the face he loved to look at, " take my arm young lady, you have not had proper training or you'd make nothing of such a walk." " I call it a desperately tiring 0!ie." Drusilla pouted and turned away her head. Mr. Yardon looked at his granddaughter. " That Foxley woman wants to speak to you,'' he said, " I told Warren to let her wait in the hall." " I'll go on," but the brightness left Maisie's face, she had been listening to the lark's song, with that uplifted feeling which sometimes seems to be in the very air of Spring. NoW it ceased to move her, the mention of Harriet Foxley had brought her back to reality and her burden was once more weighing at her heart. As she went down and then up the steps of the sunk fence, she was conscious that this mood was not one in which she ought to indulge. She wished she could get to like this woman, but besides Harriet's covert insolence the prying peering curiosity in her eyes had always a discon- certing effect on Maisie. She found Harriet sitting in a corner of the hall, the woman rose slowly when she saw Miss Derrick. " Father says," she looked so inquisitive that Maisie felt her color rise, ** that Miss Savvay, the lady at the Manor House is a friend of yours, miss " She paused here and stood staring as if so far she had been repeating by rote, and had forgotten the end of her sentence. ' Si I i .1 ( I ,: , i! Hi i6o MAISIE DERRICK, Maisie smiled at her. " Sit down, you must be tired with your walk up-hill. Can I do anything for you with Miss Savvay, Harriet ? " Harriet laughed and showed her long yellow teeth ; she seemed really amused that Miss Derrick should think she wanted help from her. * " It's about Matilda," she said, " it's no favor ; they've taken on a new kitchen maid at the Manor House, and that's my Cousin Matilda. An' Mrs. Prew says as she comes from Wales and don't have no acquaintances. I may go up and see her now and again while Tilda's so strange like." " Well, that is kind of Mrs. Prew." Maisie wondered what she could have to do with the arrangement. Harriet had resumed her seat, she moved her head un- easily at Maisie's words. *' Well," she said harshly, " perhrps you'd now and again have a note or a message for the lady, and 'tis the same to me whether I goes across the common or Mr. Yardon's meadows. I must pass your gate anyway, so if you please I'll c^ll now and again." Maisie felt ashamed of her dislike, the woman had looked her in the face while she spoke, and she seemed anxious that Miss Derrick should accept her services. " Thank you very much," Maisie said — " It will save you some distance if you go through the grounds when you come. I will ask Mr. Yardon's leave for this." A ring at the door bell interrupted the talk. Harriet seemed anxious to go, but Warren was opening the front door and he admitted Mr. Stanmore. The two women looking on from the corner of the hall saw how determined Mr. Stanmore looked as he crossed the hall unconscious of observers. Maisie went forward, " Good morning," she said, then she added. ~5£S. MAISIE DERRICK. I6l 'm " Do you want my gr^ dfather, I fancy you will find him in the garden." Stanmore bowed, thanked her and passed on. Maisie had forgotten Miss Foxley. She looked round at her and saw an odious grin on the woman's face ; she gave a familiar nod, said *' good morning, miss," and dis- appeared by a door on the leit that led to the offices. "Maisie stood shivering, the hateful mocking look sank into her heart, she felt powerless under it ; was this creature a witch or how could she divine thoughts which Maisie imagined she had kept hidden from every one. She hurried up to her room and looked out of the window. Mr. Stanmore and her grandfather were standing on the lawn with their backs to the housi but it was evident that Stanmore was speaking very earnestly. Drusilia sat near them on a garden chair, her head was bent and her face showed only in profile, but Maisie saw that the girl was angry. Maisie moved away from the window, she did not see how impatiently Drusilia turned to the speakers as they came up to her. ** I leave you two to settle it together," Mr. Yardon said, " mind Drusilia I wopt have any shilly- shallying. I hate unnecessary delay — three weeks or a month is long enough to keep any man waiting." He went off without waititig for an answer. Stanmore had found Drusilia alone in the drawing-room, and he had taken her in his arms and asked her to fix a time for their marriage ; he did not know that Mr. Yardon was just outside the open window fastening up a clematis wliich the wind had torn down from the house. But Dru- silia drew herself away : " It is too soon," she said, and then she heard her guar- dian laugh. ' " Come out Drusilia," he said, "here is a cliair for you. All how d'ye do Stanmore, what do you wani; I wonder." 11 ^ .i.| 1' 1 ■ 1 s i, "" 1 62 MA IS IE DERRICK, He laughed and they all adjourned to the lawn much to Staniiiore's vexation, he felt sure that he could have settled the matter far more easily if he had been left alone with Drusilla. Mr. Yardon's departure was there- fore a relief, he was eager to plead his own cause without assistance. " Come to the summer-house," he said, bending over her, ** we can talk better there." Drusilla looked up at him.with a sweet plaintive expres- sion. " Won't you let me rest here," she said softly. " I have had a long walk and I am so tired." Stanmore was disappointed, he did not care to talk in front of the windows for the benefit of any of the household who might be on the watch, but as he wanted to gain his point, he was willing to yield to her. ** What do you say to three weeks, dearest ? " He said it very tenderly, at that moment he felt that this exquisite creature's happiness was a very precious charge. Drusilla pouted a moment and then she laughed in her pretty rippling way. " Men are so amusing. How can I get ready in three weeks ? I have not clothes enough even for this dull place, and you said you should not stay here when your line was finished." This was the first allusion she had made to her future life with him and he was delighted. " Darling — of course I am ignorant about such things — you see I have always lived alone or with men, but I believe now-a-days gowns can be had much more quickly than they could formerly. I only want you to fix a definite day — it will be better for us all to have it settled." She frowned a little, and then she looked up at him inge- nuously. " You see," she said, " I want advice and only a woman can give it mt\ No one in Figgsmarsh knows anything MAISIE DERRICK, 163 about London shops or dressmakers except Miss Savvay." She paused with a pretty pathetic expression. " I am afraid you would not like me to consult her." She spoke timidly as if she really cared for his opinion. " Why not, dearest ? " he answered, " Miss Savvay is just the person who can help you, she often goes to town and spends part of every year there, and she must know all about shopping. I am sorry to be such a duffer," he laughed, " but I'm quite out of that sort of thing." Drusilla looked her own bright self again. She rose and began to walk across the lawn with her lover. ** I like you best as you are " she said, " it does not seem manly for a man to know about shopping, I hated that Mr. Ray because he interfered about my shopping in Paris." Stanmore laughed. " He was a bold man," he said, " and I dare say you had your own way after all." Drusilla gave a comical glance out of her half closed eyes. ** Poor man, I ought not to be hr.rd on him. I got up early and did my shopping before he waked." ** Come out of sight of the house," Stanmore said as he laughed at her confession. " I want to give you something, and I should like to try if it fits your finger." Drusilla's eyes sparkled. It was worth while being engaged she thought if the engagement brought her a gift, and it occurred to her that if she were very nice to Luke Stanmore he might repeat his offering. " We will go to the summer-house," she said cheerfully, and she led the way across the grass. « Stanmore had taken a tiny parcel from his pocket, and, when Drusilla had seated herself in the summer-house, took off the outer wrappings and opened a little casket he showed what seemed to Drusilla a blaze of light. It came from a ring, a jjlain gold circle with a narrow upright oval closely set with brilliants which flashed out ^^1 ■ W 164 MAISIE DERRICK. every color in the prism as Stanmore placed i^ on the girl's slender finger. ** Oh how lovely, how beautiful ! " she cried. " Is it really mine ? " he was bending over her and she put up her lips and kissed him. " Dearest girl," he whispered, as he slipped his arm round her, " you will say this day four weeks. Yes, I know you will not keep me waiting for my happiness." Drusilla leaned back in saucy triumph and shook her head at him. " Don't r; ke t: s 're," she said, "how do you know that y ;u will oc as lappy married as you are now ; this is much nicei tb p^ Icinf^ married." She nestled her head against his shoulder, bu his enraptured answer took her by surprised and she drew herself a little away from him. " You are too encroaching," she said, " but I shall not spoil you, let us go back to the lawn." " Presently my darling," he held her hands fast in his, for this yielding on her part to his love had been so un- expected that he could not give it up at once, " you forget one thing," he said tenderly, you have not given me my answer ; I have been waiting ever since for you to fix the day." " How persevering you are," she said gaily, she rose from the bench and Lughed as she freed her hands, ** why don't you trust me, and then when everything is ready I will let you know — " a stern look in his eyes made her hurry out her next words — " please wait," she said shyly, " wait till I have consulted Miss Savvay. I can't see her to- morrow bec'ise to-morrow is Sunday, but she is sure to come and see us very soon, she was so kind to me to-day, you will wait won't you ? " She spoke so gently that he could not resist her. " Very well," he said, " I will wait a week or so but I shall come very soon to learn your decision. I am going MA IS IE DERRICK, Ids to London this evening to tell my news to one of my re- maming relations, and I shall not be back till Monday ; so I shan't see you till Tuesday my pet." He took a loving farewell and left her. Drusilla stood looking at her ring twisting her hand about till the stones sent out tongues of fliime-colored light. She felt that bhe cared for Mr. Stanmore more than she had ever done before, more than for any one she had ever se n, he w;.s so clever she thought, surely he would be successful, and perhaps this relation he v/as going to see Was rich ana v/ould leave him money ; yes her lover was wiser tl;an she was, he had no doubt a motive for this journey, and she had felt so vexed when he said he was going away, that she had almost asked him to give up the journey. She resolved to ask Miss Savvay's adv e '^d to fix a time for her marriage, but she also resolvec* tha lere "■O'-J was no need for hurry, if she kept Luke Stan n-*' re in good temper and petted him, she felt sure he would ai ays take her part, and then she might snap her fingers a Mr. Yardon. She thought too, that Stanmore would make a more de- voted husband if he were kept waiting a little longer than he expected. " He is a very dear fellow," she was looking at her ring and making it reflect itself in the long mirror in her room j '* but for all that I want to amuse myself a bit before I quite belong to him, and I'm going to see a little more of Captain Wentworth and Mr. Boyd too before I marry — no there's no occasion to hurry." ,i! I .(' I- 'ii: i sir 166 MAISIE DERRICK, ..Vi I.I 1^ I*- \&~ \ 1^, CHAPTER XXIII. Drusilla spent the chief part of the evening in making her ring send out colored flashes of light, she forgot the per- plexity in which she had walked back from the Manor House. Next day in church when she saw that Mr, Boyd was not in Captain Wentworth's pew, she remembered Miss Savvay question, and the blood rushed warmly to her face. Why had she confessed to her remembrance of Mr. Boyd. She wondered whether he had told Miss Savvay about the short-frocked child he had seen at Cannes, but she fancied he had not done this or she should have discovered some patronage in the manner of Maisie's Iriend, and Miss Sav- vay had been on the contrary caressing. Miss Lescure, it is to be feared, was not in either a prayerful or an atten- tive mood. Mr. Vernon's sermon seemed to pass over her head, she was so intent on planning a visit to the Manor House at a likely time for finding Mr. Boyd. She felt that she must see him at once and without witnesses. She was not going to ask a favor of him, but she thought he would see by her manner that she wanted him to forget his previous knowledge of her. When she saw him at the Hall she had had a vague feel- ing of discomfort, she knew that the square face with its keen hard eyes was not unknown to her, but she could not call to mind where she had seen it. Miss Savvay's words supplied the clue and created a restless eagerness to see this man again. About two o'clock on Monday, Miss Lescure presented herself at the Manor House, and asked for Miss Savvay. MAISIE DERRICK. 167 Captain Wentworth's man, well-dressed and well-trained, a great contrast, Drusilla thought, to pompous old Warren, said that Miss Savvay had gone to town for the day, she was not expected home till evening, could he take any message for Miss Savvay. The dining-room door opened and Captain Wentworth came out with a cigar in his mouth. Won't you come in and rest," he said, after he had given her a delighted welcome, ** you'll write a message for my aunt, perhaps, and she shall have it on her arrival." And he took his charming visitor to the library, a snug out-of- the way room, as full of old books as the library at Yardon, but furnished with far more luxury. Captain Wentworth placed writing materials ready, while Drusilla stood pulling off her gloves. She felt in her cle- mentjhappier than she had been since she came to Yardon, for this promised to be an adventure, and she meant to get as much amusement from it as she could. She looked at Captain Wentworth, he was not staring, but she saw that he was admiring her. She sat down and took up the pen placed ready for her, and then she paused — It was not likely she thought that Captain Wentworth would tell tales, and Miss Savvay need not know any details, beyond the mere fact that Miss Lescure had called in her absence. She laid down the pen. " Really, I have nothing to write about," she said, with her rippling laugh. " I am ashamed to have taken up your time." She rose as if she were going away, and took up her gloves. " Please say to Miss Savvay, how sorry I am to miss the pleasure of seeing her, and the rooms she so kindly promised to show me." '* What rooms were they, I wonder," Captain Went- worth smiled. Miss Lescure was about the loveliest creature he had % 3 % i''. '. r.' i68 MAISIE DERRICK, ever seen, but his opinion of her simplicity was not quite so exalted as it had been at their first meeting. Drusilla thought a moment. " One was a room with pictures," she said, '* and an- other had tapisserie, ah ! you call it in English tapestry on the walls." While she talked to him she exaggerated her pretty foreign accent, for she saw how delightedly he was listening. ** Will you allow me to have the honor of showing you those rooms ? " he said, '' it is too bad that you should have had a long walk for nothing. I will try to be a good showman, if you will give me the chance ? " She smiled at him. " I have seen you, so it is not for nothing that I came," she said, " it will be very kind of you to show me this wonderful tapestry, I have been told that it is three hundred years old." " It is quite as old as that." He touched one of the book shelves on the right side of the library and suddenly an opening appeared as a portion of the book-shelves slid out of sight. " Ah ! " Drusilla cried, " you are a conjuror ." "Those are only sham books," he said, "they serve to mask this sliding door, I will go first and show you the way ? " He went on and she followed through two other rooms. Drusilla wished to look at the furniture and the ornaments on the tables and cabinets, but the captain was holding the last door open, and passing through it she saw a small turning staircase at the end of a passage. She wondered if they were to go upstairs, why he had not taken her across the hall and up the great staircase which she had seen on her last visit. But she forgot this when they reached the picture gallery, a splendid long room wi:h win- MAISIE DERRICK, 169 dows on one side, and at its further end looking into the — the other side and end were hung with large pictures, most of them family portraits. Drusilla felt awed when she heard that all these wigged and grandly dressed gentlemen and the ladies, some with high powdered heads and stiff figures, and others with flowing curls and the loosest of robes, were all ancestors of Captain Wentworth. ** The name was Wentworth till tliis property came to my grandmother," he said, " and it was settled that who ever came into possession after her death should resume the old name. I can never remember being a Savvay, it was all planndd for me." " I wonder," the girl said, thoughtfully, *' that you could stay away so long from such a beautiful old place ? " " And yet you suggested that I should find it dull." ** To stay here always — but London and Paris is not so very far away. I should think one must always be lively in Paris ? " Captain Wentworth looked at her with increased admira- tion, if he could ever marry, he thought here was a woman to suit him, but Captain 'Wentworth had served his apprenticeship to the world and he knew perfectly well that Miss Lescure would not dream of marrying him if she knew that he had come down to the Manor House to con- sider the best means of compounding with his creditors. At the same time Miss Lescure was lawful pastime, and moreover she was his visitor, and he was bound to amuse her as much as possible. " There is a fine view of the old trees from this window," he said. And so thi -re was. The trees had been planted in far off days for ornament, not as mere timber ; there were splendid groups of planes only partly clothed with tender green, and against them and the delicate lime foliage the broad grey :